The Chronicles of the Lioness: The First Adventure
by Lady Aescwyn
Summary: LWW, Peter/OC. The PEvensies, along with their friend Lizzie Bennett, are sent to her grandfather’s manor in the country during the Blitz. There, they discover a certain magic wardrobe... *Working on last chapter* *Rewrite coming soon!*
1. Blitzed Beginnings

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 1**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. (_runs off to go cry in the corner_)

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **I started writing this story for a friend, but now I'm obsessed with it... She had a crush on Peter, so I started rewriting LWW, only with a new character named Elizabeth Robinette. I was posting it on Quizilla and now I'm revamping it to post it here.

**Introduction/Back-story:** Elizabeth or Lizzie Robinette is of French decent on her father's side (hence the last name) and her mother is Ruth Kirke, the daughter of Professor Digory Kirke and his wife Polly (I don't think they got married in the books, but for the purpose of this story they are).

Liz has long, wavy, reddish-blonde hair and her eyes are blue-green with gold starbursts around the pupil. She has fair skin and full lips, and her nose is a little crooked from breaking it when she was nine, but it had healed well and is barely noticeable (Peter had dared her to climb the oak tree in the back yard...).

The Pevensies moved in next-door to Lizzie when she was seven (Peter was 8, Susan was 7, Edmund was 5, and Lucy was 3) and they had all become good friends, but as they got older and when the war set in, they grew apart.

Both Lizzie's dad and Mr. Pevensie were in the RAF (Royal Air Force) and had been sent off to defend the country, but before they had left, they built a bomb shelter big enough for both of their families in the Pevensie's back yard.

Only a few days ago Liz and her mother received a telegram saying that her father's plane had been shot down off the coast of France. No body had been found but he is presumed dead.

Mmmmkay, I talk too much, so on with the story...

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

_May 20, 1940:_

(Peter's POV)

I can hear the rumbling engines of the German planes and the thunder of their bombs in the distance as each one comes closer.

I'm terrified as I flip on the torch in my shaking hand and I grab a couple of blankets from the hall closet.

From the living room I can hear Mum's voice, "Edmund! Get away from there!" Then I can hear her screaming my name, "Peter? Peter! The shelter! Quickly!"

"Lucy, come on!" cries Susan as she drags a terrified Lucy from the bedroom at the end of the hall. The bombs are getting closer; the light from their explosions down the street shimmers through a slit in the kitchen curtains...

I rush to the back door and hold it open for my family, "Come on!" I yell; I can feel the door vibrate violently in my hand as the house trembles, almost as though it was afraid...

Susan runs through first, half dragging the crying Lucy. Next is Edmund, closely followed by my Mum. I fly out the door behind them and into the chill darkness.

Slowing down, I risk a glance between the houses and down the street, I can see brilliant flames. I run faster.

"Dad!" I hear someone yell and suddenly Edmund pelts past me and back into the house.

Mum is standing in the lit doorway of the shelter, "No Edmund!"

"I'll get him!" I yell as I whirl and sprint after him. I chase him back to the house, feeling the fear rise in my throat. I follow him into Mum's bedroom where he snatches the picture of Dad off of the vanity.

The walls shake and a tremendous explosion sounds. I slam myself into Ed and knock him to the floor just as broken glass and debris rains down on us.

"You idiot!" I growl as I drag him to his feet and pull him out of the house.

A low thudding rumble fills the air as I fly across the lawn towards the safe, lit haven of the shelter. _I'm going to die!_ I think repeatedly.

As we reach safety I fling Edmund in first, he lands in a corner where he whimpers, still clutching the picture of Dad.

"You are so selfish!" I hear myself scream, "Why can't you think about anyone but yourself!" I sound so angry, but I'm really just terrified for him...

Mum says my name in pleading warning. I stop, breathing heavily, and glare at Edmund one more time, "Why can't you do as you're told?"

I slam the door and look around, "Where are the Robinettes?" I ask.

Mum shakes her head, she doesn't know.

A scream sounds outside; I rip the door open just in time for Mrs. Robinette to rush inside, but no Lizzie.

Mum jumps up, "Ruth, where's Lizzie?!" she asks as she grabs Mrs. Robinettes shoulders.

Lizzie's Mum looks around wildly "She...right behind? ...Lizzie!" she screams and jumps up to go after her, but I'm already gone.

"Peter!" I hear my own mother scream.

I run towards Lizzie's house and vault over the short brick wall separating our lawns. Panic is pounding in my chest, has something happened to Lizzie?

A dark figure comes out the back door; Lizzie.

Suddenly, a bomb hits her house and the shock waves knock me off my feet and slam the air from my lungs.

I scramble to my feet, gulping in air, and I see a dark form on the ground at the edge of what used to be the back patio of a house.

"Liz!" I yell as I hurl myself at her, praying to God that she's alright, but when I grab her arm I feel blood...

**End of Chapter 1**

So, would anyone like me to continue? Please Review!

PS: (To my readers of Tears and Broken Glass) ...I have a little bit of writer's block where that story is concerned, so it's on hold for a while as I work on this one and my college homework. I'm really sorry! I WILL finish it though!


	2. Mothers' Fears

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 2**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** ...I already told you. I own nothing. Must we reopen these wounds?

**Summary:** Narnia:LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Many thanks to both imakeladrygirl and musafa for the reviews! And here is your update. :)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Lizzie's POV)

"Let's go Lizzie!" I hear my Mum shout.

"I'm right behind you mum! Just go!" I reply as I run out the door behind her, but then I remember that my cat Zoe is still shut in the bedroom.

I run to the bedroom, open the door and out streaks a howling ball of tortoise shell fur. Zoe knowing instinctively, and out of nightly habit what to do, runs for the shelter.

As I come out the back door I look up and see someone running towards me; a tall, blond, male someone. "Peter?"

Just then a bomb blows my house to bits. I am slammed face first into the grass and I can feel sharp pains in my neck and shoulder. Stunned, I can only lay there, unmoving.

Peter shouts my name and I feel his fingers close around my arm. Pain lances up every nerve and I can't stop from crying out. He immediately lets go of my arm and places a gentle arm around my waist.

With Peter's help I stagger to my feet and over the wall, into the Pevensie's yard and into the shelter.

When the door is shut I turn to Peter. He is looking at me with anger, confusion, and what looks suspiciously like worry in his eyes.

As the cloud of adrenaline lifts itself off of my mind I realize he is yelling at me.

Something inside me snaps and you start screaming back at him. I don't really know what I'm saying, just that it feels good to scream at someone. Through the haze of anger I can tell that we're yelling insults bordering on profanities. Hot tears of rage, frustration, and sadness are coursing down my cheeks as I gesture angrily at nothing.

Finally, my voice breaks and I hear Mum's quiet but firm voice, "Elizabeth, Peter, that's enough."

We both stop and look around. Edmund is curled in the corner scowling up at us with something pressed to his chest. Lucy and Susan are on one of the beds, Lucy crying silently into Susan's lap and Susan staring at the two of us, mortified, as though we have both just grown alien eye stalks.

Looking over at our mothers, we can see they are both horrified and anguished.

All of a sudden I feel very lightheaded and my knees start to buckle. Mum and Peter rush forward to catch me and lower me into a chair.

"You're bleeding..." Peter says looking at his hands which I realize are covered in my blood, "...bad."

My Mum, a nurse, starts to clean my wound, "Helen, get me the first aid kit." Mrs. Pevensie nods, "it's not very deep," mum says, "just a lot of it."

(later that night)

I can't sleep; explosions still shake the world outside. I look over at Susan who is sound asleep and between the two of us is curled Lucy with an arm flung over the small furry mass of Zoe.

I roll over and notice both of the older women are talking quietly in the corner.  
"-got to get our children out of here." says Mrs. Pevensie.

Mum nods, "Lizzie is on the first train out of here in the morning."

"Where are you sending her?"

"My father has a place in the country."

"Your father is a Professor right?"

Nod.

Silence.

"So have you found anyone in that program to take your four?"

Mrs. Pevensie shakes her head, "No. None who will take all for of them." she looks up with a fierce determination in her eyes, "And I will NOT have them split up!" she slams her hand into the table for emphasis.

I glance over at the boys' bed to see that Peter is awake and looking right at me.

I roll back over and scratch Zoe on the head before settling in to sleep.

"I think we're disturbing the children." says Mrs. Pevensie quietly.

That is the last thing I hear before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**End of Chapter 2**

Again, please let me know what you think!


	3. Life With Macready

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 3**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing...

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **I have a question for my readers and I would be very appreciative if someone could give their advice. What do you think of the present tense format (for example, "I sigh wearily.")? Would you rather I used past tense ("I sighed wearily")? If you like the past tense better, I can certainly go back and change it... I might just change it anyway, but I really want to hear your opinions.

Actually any feedback you have is quite welcome. :)

On another note, the pairings for this story are: Peter/OC (Lizzie), Digory/Polly, Jill/Eustace, Lucy/Corin, and Susan/OC; but not all of these are set in stone. If you have another pairing you like, let me know why you like it and I might consider it. :)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

_May 21, 1940_

"I trust you remember the rules Miss Elizabeth."

"Yes Mrs. Macready." I sigh wearily.

Mrs. Macready continues as if she didn't hear me, "There will be absolutely no runnin', no shoutin', no touchin' of historical artifacts, no unladylike conduct, no-no-no-no-no..."

I tune her out as you plod up the stairs behind her, after all, I've heard it all before, "and NO disturbin' of your grandfather unless it's completely necessary."

I sigh again, "Yes, Mrs. Macready."

Mrs. Macready nods curtly and leaves me alone in my room. I groan softly; I am surely to die of boredom; that is if the Macready doesn't kill me first...

_May 27, 1940_

I'm eating breakfast in the kitchen when Mrs. Macready comes in bearing some unexpected news; "I'm going to pick up some children from the train station today."

Nearly choking on my cereal, I sputter, "What?!"

"I'm picking up four children from the train station today. They will be staying until it is safe to return home."

I just stare at her dumbly.

She looks back at me sternly, "I will be back here at about six. I expect you to be here and not gallivanting about on that horse of yours. You are to make their stay as pleasant as possible." she leaves the room in a matter-of-fact way, without another word.

I push my bowl away, suddenly not hungry. Sure, I didn't want to be bored, but I didn't want to play babysitter to four kids either.

After I put my bowl in the sink I walk out the kitchen door and to the stables.

When I walk in, my mare, Penny, sticks her head out of the stall door and looks at me with her big brown eyes. Technically she isn't mine, she was bought by my Granddad when I was little, but he let me name her and ride her.

Her stable mate Cracker, a draft gelding, is currently out with the Macready.

I put out my hand and stroke Penny's velvety nose. "Hmmm, the Macready didn't say I couldn't go 'gallivanting' in the morning...as long as I'm back by six I should be fine right?"

Penny nods her head as though she understands me and looks hopefully at her tack.  
"All right then, it's settled!" I laugh, _And the Macready be damned._ I think.

**End of Chapter 3**

I actually like Mrs. Macready in the movie, but in the book she's kinda mean and that's the Macready I'm going with...

Please Review!

Oh, and a few more words about Lizzie: Height wise she is about Peter's height, only about a half inch shorter with an average body size (she's not a stick woman). And even though she seems a little stuck up and mean, she's usually not, she's just been reckless and antisocial since she and her mom received the telegram about her dad.

Okay, I'ma shut up now. Happy Fic reading!


	4. Sent Away

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 4**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** (_checks_) Nope, I don't own Narnia, no matter how much I would like to...

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thank you to Phoenix Feather Queens for the review! Thanks again to musafa for the reviews!! I luff yous guys!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Peter's POV)

Wearily I lay my head against the cool glass of the train window and watch the scenery fly by. Across from me Lucy mumbles in her sleep and Susan reads a book.

"Are we there yet?" asks Edmund.

"No. Stop asking." says Susan without looking up.

About fifteen minutes later I realize that the train is slowing. Edmund sits up straight, "Are we there yet?"

Susan slams her book shut and glares at Edmund just as I spot a stop coming into view. A sign reads Coombe Halt.

"Yes!" I say as I start to stand up.

Ed and Su look at me, "What?"

"I said yes, we're here."

A few minutes later finds the four of us standing alone on an empty platform.

What now? Where is the Professor or this Mrs. Macready we were told about?

A car horn sounds in the distance, prompting the four of us grab our luggage and hurry to the small muddy road next to the platform.

The car honks its horn again and Lucy raises her hand in greeting but the vehicle keeps on moving.

We're all left standing alone in the mud.

Susan looks confused, "The Professor knew we were coming."

Edmund picks up the tag dangling from his jacket and frowns at it, "Perhaps we've been incorrectly labeled?"

I open my mouth and I'm about to say something along the lines of how that is highly improbable when I hear the thud of hooves and the creak of wagon wheels coming from around the bend.

Up the hill comes a small two-wheeled cart pulled by a big gray gelding and driven by a very severe looking woman. The cart slows and comes to a halt in front of us.

"Mrs. Macready?" I venture.

The woman purses her lips, "I'm afraid so." she looks us all up and down, "Well is this it then?" I nod, "Haven't you got anything else?"

"No ma'am, it's just us." I say.

She sits up straight, "Get in then."

We all scramble up into the back of the cart and start out on what turns out to be a long quiet ride.

Quite a while later I feel the cart jerk and start up a steep hill. Susan pokes me and points to something up the hill.

I look up to see an old country manor house surrounded by lush green trees.

To the left of the main house and farther away there were some stables. I squint and see a bright haired figure feeding a horse in a corral next to the structure.

_Who could that be?_ I hadn't heard of any one else staying here besides the Professor and Mrs. Macready.

Mrs. Macready makes a strange noise, something like a cat that's just been mocked. I look back at her and see she is looking towards the stables, "...the chit!...gallivanting..." she grumbles and snaps the reigns smartly.

I glance at Susan who just shrugs.

(later, inside the house)

Mrs. Macready walks up a small set of steps, "Now, there are a few rules that need followin'." she turns to address me and my siblings, "There will be no shoutin' or yellin'. There is to be no runnin' or stompin'; absolutely no tom foolery." she turns and walks up a few more steps then spins around, "NO touchin' of the 'istorical artifacts!"

Startled, I turn to see Susan frozen, about to touch a marble bust.

The Macready woman continues up the stairs and stops at a door, "Lastly, there will be no disturbin' of the professor."

She leads us down a hall and into a corridor where there are four doors, she indicates the first door on the right, "You boys will sleep here," she points to the door on the left, "and the girls will be in here. Now unpack and come down to the kitchen, which is down that hall, to the left, and down the stairs." she then turns and walks briskly away.

I look at my brother and sisters and all heave a weary collective sigh before following Mrs. Macready's orders.

**End of Chapter 4**

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	5. Sneaky

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 5**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** ...

**Summary:** Narnia:LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thanks again imakeladrygirl:) Reviews are always luved and appreciated!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Lizzie's POV)

I'm down at the stables feeding a freshly groomed Penny when I hear the distant creak of wagon wheels. I look over at the house and see Mrs. Macready driving a wagon load of children up the hill.

I curse loudly as I look at my watch; it's only three.

"Six my behind." I mutter, "Wench..." I give Penny a final pat before sneaking through the bushes to a spot under grandpa's study window. I raise my head slowly to peek over the edge.

One of the maids, Margaret, is dusting. I duck back down and silently curse the Macready.

This means I will have to climb the trellis to get to the library on the second floor.

On hands and knees, I crawl through flowers, make a short dash across open ground to finally land in a rose bush and start up the trellis; an ancient wooden piece of work covered in vines and nice thorny roses.

I find myself cursing the Macready once again when the window turns out to be locked, but I have a backup plan. I yank one of the pins out of my hair and work a little lock picking magic on the window.

Once inside, I creep across the room and poke my head into the hall. No one there.  
I race down the hall and up the stairs as quietly as I can and tiptoe into my room where I can relax a little.

I hear the Macready's voice from downstairs; she is briefing the new kids. She will be busy with them for a while, giving me time to ready myself.

I look in the mirror, and wince. My clothes are rumpled and covered in horsehair; my arms and face are covered in a multitude of tiny scratches. But the worst part is my hair; it is filled with leaves and twigs and smells of horse.

I sigh and get to work.

Once I am presentable, I make my way downstairs, praying every step of the way that the Macready didn't see me.

I enter the kitchen and see the Pevensies. My jaw drops and I can do nothing but blink.

The four of them look up from their meals and all have similar expressions of stunned surprise on their faces.

Suddenly, Mrs. Macready comes out of nowhere and starts berating me about gallivanting, but I ignore her and continue to stare at my friends. _What are they doing here?_ I wonder.

Lucy is the first to break out of the stupor; she leaps up and flings her arms around my waist. Looking up at me, she asks, "Lizzie, what are you doing here?"

The Macready halts her tirade, it's her turn to look like a star struck cow

"I-I, well the professor is my grandpa, but what are you all doing here?" I sputter, looking around at them all, Lucy is beaming up at me with an arm wrapped around my waist, Susan has gotten up to hug me, and even Peter is smiling a little (Ed is back to scowling).

"Your grandfather, the professor, agreed to take all four of us." says Susan.

Lucy laughs, "This is wonderful!" she hugs me again, "Maybe this won't be so bad after all!"

_No_, I think, _Maybe not..._

**End of Chapter 5**

Thank you and please review:)


	6. Seekers

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 6**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** I owns nuffink.

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the review and pointing out my mistake musafa! (_sweat drop)_ I had written this story for a friend and I had used the "_you"_ point of view (me telling the reader what happens to them through Lizzie) and now I'm trying to convert it into the first person point of view... I've gone back and fixed it now. Again, many thanks for that:)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

_May 30, 1940_

It's raining.

A lot.

I am bored out of my skull, the book I was looking at (A Scientific Study of Insects) is now draped over my face in an attempt to block out light as I sprawl over a couch in the library.

"Gastro vascular." comes Susan's voice.

"Is it Latin?" that was Peter.

I peek out from behind the book. Susan is reading from a giant dictionary, Edmund is picking at the underside of a chair, Lucy is looking longingly out of the window, and Peter is slouched sideways in a chair feeling just as bored as I feel.

Edmund smirks, "Is it Latin for 'most boring game ever invented'?"

Susan shoots him a dirty look, "Come on Peter, Gastro vascular."

Lucy shuffles sulkily over to Peter and tugs on his sleeve, "Can we play a different game Peter? Can we play Hide-and-Seek?"

Peter's gaze slides from Lucy to Susan, "But we're already having SO much fun.' He says with a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

Susan gives him the evil eye and slams the book shut.

Looking back at Lucy with a half smile, Peter starts to count, "One, two, three…"

I smile; Hide-and-Seek may be a kids' game but it's far better than Latin, AND I know all of the best hiding places in the house.

I'm the first out of the library. I run down a corridor and into the third guest bedroom on the second floor. Then I climb carefully into the closet and cram myself into a hidden nook created by the kitchen chimney downstairs.

I can still hear Peter counting, "Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three…"

Then, suddenly, I hear yelling, "It's okay! I'm back! I'm alright!"

Curious, I get out of the closet and poke my head into the hall in time to see Lucy turn the corner into the next hall.

I follow her.

I round the corner to find an angry Edmund hissing at Lucy, "Shut up! He's coming!"

Enter Peter.

He looks around at the three of us, confused, "I don't think you three have quite got the idea of this game."

Lucy's turn to be confused, "Weren't you looking for me?"

Edmund rolls his eyes, "That's WHY he was _Seeking_ you." He steps out from behind the curtains with a noise of disgust.

Susan turns the corner, "Does this mean I win?" she asks, looking around at the four of us.

A still confused Peter answers, "I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore."

Lucy turns to me with a pleading look of uncertainty in her eyes, "But I was gone for hours?"

I shake my head, "No..." I say and wonder, _What's she up to? Is she kidding, or did she hit her head..._

**End of Chapter 6**

Reviews are much loved!


	7. Disenchanted Wood

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 7**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** (_checks her closet_) Nope... I don't own Narnia.

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thanks for yet another review imakeladrygirl!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(In the Spare Room)

Lucy has led the four of us here, to the spare room, with a wild tale of a winter wonderland inside the old wardrobe.

The name of the world she says is Narnia, a name that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Edmund and Susan are checking the back of the wardrobe as Lucy is explaining to Peter and I all about some guy named Tumnus.

Peter says to Lucy, "Hold on Lu, we don't all have your imagination." He is looking rather worried now.

Susan walks up to me, "The only wood in there is the back of the wardrobe."

Lucy is half frantic now, "But I wasn't imagining it!"

Susan turns on her with a dangerous flash in her eyes, "That's _enough_ Lucy."

Lucy is looking around with a half scared; half bewildered look on her face. She turns to Edmund, "Don't you believe me?"

Edmund smiles, "Of course I believe you…"

Lucy's face lights up.

"… didn't I tell you about the football field I found in the bathroom cupboard." He finishes with a nasty look on his face.

Peter rounds on him with a disgusted glare, "Oh, will you just stop."

"I was just joking." says Edmund.

"You just have to make everything worse don't you!" yells Peter.

Edmund blows up at him, "Stop yelling at me! You think you're dad but you're not!" he storms away.

Susan looks at Peter, exasperated, "Well THAT was nicely handled!" she rushes after Edmund.

Lucy looks hopefully at Peter, "But, it really was there..."

He shakes his head, "Susan's right, enough is enough Lu." He starts to leave.

Lucy looks at me like I'm her last hope, "YOU believe me, don't you Lizzie?"

"I…"

Up until now I have been trying to stay out of it. Lucy has always been one of my best friends and I don't want to disappoint her, but everything she was saying is just so out there... Yet, at the same time she really and truly seems to believe it...

But, all the same, it isn't true; it _can't_ be. Right?

I open my mouth to disagree and I try to shake my head, but I can't get the words past my lips and my head refuses to move. Every part of me, every _rational_ part, is screaming at me, "_You shouldn't believe this! Tell her you don't believe her! Because you DON'T!_"

But, somehow, a part of me does believe her, "I believe you Lucy." I whisper, surprised and horrified at myself.

Lucy is smiling at me brilliantly.

Peter is staring at me, appalled.

I leave as fast as I can. I retreat to my room, slam the door and lock it. I sit on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands trying to make myself breathe normally and trying to sort out the thoughts screaming through my head.

Why had I said that?

I hadn't wanted to...

But I couldn't make my lips say anything else...

But_ why_?

**End of Chapter 7**

Many thanks for reading! Please review!


	8. Brother or Father

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 8**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** I own only Lizzie (jeez, took me long enough to realize it).

**Summary:** Narnia:LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Big thank yous to both nascar-freak and brezzybrez! Your reviews are much loved!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Later that night)

I come out of my room only when I think the others have all gone down to dinner. I'm walking down the hall with my head down when I hear, "Why did you say that?"

Startled, I jump and look up. Peter is standing in his bedroom doorway. "Why did you tell her you believe her?" his blue eyes are like chips of ice, cold and hard.

I clench my fists, angry. "You want the truth?"

"Of course I want the truth!"

I glare at him, "The truth is that I believe her!"

Peter's eyes widen and I expect him to blow up, but when he speaks, he keeps his voice dangerously low, "You what?!" he takes a few deep breaths, "its bad enough that she has picked up lying from Edmund. She doesn't need YOU encouraging her!"

How _dare_ he tell me off!

My jaw is set defiantly, "I think Edmund is right; you're not a parent and you need to lay off!"

Peter's glare hardens, "Lucy is my little sister and Ed is my brother! I need to take care of them!"

"Yeah. You need to take care of them, but they need you as a _brother_, not as a father! They need you to protect them, not discipline them! You will only cause them to distance themselves from you!"

"But I can't enable them!"

"You're going to drive them away!"

Peter slams the door in my face.

I feel a dull pain in my chest and wetness on my cheeks.

I vaguely realize that hot tears of rage are falling from my eyes. I stubbornly rub them away as I retreat back to my room, resolving not to come out.

**End of Chapter 8**

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	9. Dreams and Deceit

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 9**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** I own only Lizzie (jeez, took me long enough to realize it).

**Summary:** Narnia:LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews everyone! But I was wondering if you had any specific opinions... Does anything need work? Any opinions on what some of the pairings should be? Do you have a favorite part so far?

Thanks again. :)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Much later, after everyone is asleep)

I am cooking dinner in my cave home.

As I turn to stir the carrot soup, the door of my home is violently ripped from its hinges and blown in.

In walks a pack of huge wolves.

The largest of the wolves addresses me, saying that "By order of the Queen, you are to be arrested for high treason."

I grab a fire poker to defend myself, but the wolves, despite their size, dodge it easily as they jump me.

As his smaller cronies rip apart my beautiful home, the wolf leader, clamps his jaws down on my legs and drags me into the snow.

Someone is yelling at me.

The snowy surroundings are fading.

But the pain in my legs continues.

I come fully awake with the oh-so-intelligent comment of, "Wha-whassagoinon?!"

Lucy is jumping up and down on my legs, "I made it back, I went back to Narnia!" she jumps off my bed and runs down the hall to the boys room.

I get up groggily, to follow her and I meet a bleary-eyed Susan in the hall. Together we walk into the boys' bedroom to find an already awake (and frowning) Edmund, and Lucy leaping on top of a sleeping Peter, "Wake up! Wake up!"

"Ahdonwanngedup." Mumbles Peter.

"Get up!"

Peter peers over the edge of the blanket, "Lucy, What is going on?"

Lucy bounces excitedly, "I went back to Narnia!" she stops and points at Edmund, "And this time Edmund came with me!"

Edmund backs up, startled.

Lucy continues, "I went back to see Mr. Tumnus and he's fine! The Witch doesn't know he met me!"

Peter sits up and looks at Edmund, "Is this true? Did you meet the faun?" he asks.

"Well he didn't actually go there with me." Says Lucy. She looks at Edmund and frowns, "What were you doing Ed?"

A scared looking Edmund looks around at the four of us, then seems to decide on something. He gives Peter an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry Peter, Lucy and I were just playing pretend in the wardrobe."

Lucy stares at him not believing her ears.

Crossing his arms and sitting back with a smug look on his face, Edmund says to Lucy, "I guess some little children just don't know when to stop pretending."

Lucy bursts into tears and runs from the room.

I glare at Edmund with intense dislike before following Lucy.

**End of Chapter 9**

Reviews are much loved!


	10. Learning Logic

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 10**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Summary:** I'm sure you know what it's about by now...

**Author's Note: **Thanks Phoenix Feather Queens, I'm happy you like it! And thank you too musafa! That was rude of him, but then again you gotta feel kinda sorry for him, he's only trying to look out for his little sister after all...

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Susan's POV)

I rush out of the room after Lucy and Liz, with Peter right behind me. We all round a corner and Lucy slams into an old man with wild white hair covering his head and most of his face.

She looks up at him, surprised, then wraps her arms around his waist and sobs into his robe.

The old man, the professor I realize, looks around at us all.

"You children are one shenanigan shy of sleeping in the sta-Professor!" gasps the Macready as she enters the scene with a half tied bathrobe.

The Professor pats Lucy's back and gently takes her arms from around his waist, "Mrs. Macready, I think this little one is in need of some hot chocolate."

Mrs. Macready nods and leads Lucy away.

"I'll go help." Lizzie mumbles lamely, her grandfather nods.

I turn to leave with Peter but the Professor says, "I think you two had better come into my study."

Sheepishly, I follow him into the study and stand silently next to my older brother as the professor sits and proceeds to fill his pipe.

Finally, he speaks, "You seem to have upset the delicate internal balance of my housekeeper."

Peter speaks up, "I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again." He tugs at my arm and tries to leave but I pull away.

"It's our sister," I say.

"The weeping girl." observes the professor.

"She's upset."

"Hence the weeping."

I continue, "She thinks she's found a magical land."

"And Lizzie says she believes her." Says Peter from beside me.

I look at him sharply: I hadn't known this detail. Why in heaven's name would Lizzie be encouraging this nonsense?

The Professor looks at us both expectantly, "Go on." He says.

Peter sighs, "She says she found this place in the wardrobe in the spare room; she calls it Narnia."

The professor's eyes widen and he sits up, "Really? What was it like?" he asks.

"Like taking to a lunatic!" I say, becoming increasingly fearful for my sister and my best friend's sanity.

The professor waves his hand, "No. No. The magical land, Narnia, what was it like?"

Peter and I stare at him, shell shocked, "You're not saying you believe her too, are you?" asks Peter.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"It's not logical!" I say, now afraid for the Professor's sanity.

"Logic! What do they teach children in schools these days?" the professor asks himself.

Peter looks down at his hands and asks quietly, "Um, Sir, I was wondering if Lucy might be … well …"

"Mad?"

"Yes sir."

"One needs only to look at her and speak to her to see that she is not mad."

"Then she must be lying." I say.

"And why is that?"

"Because, well, Edmund said they were just pretending." I say.

The professor's eye brows rise again, "And he's usually the more truthful of the two is he?"

"This would be the first time." admits Peter.

The professor leans back in his chair, "There are three possibilities in this matter." He holds up three spindly fingers, "Lucy is either mad, lying, or telling the truth, since we have already ruled out the first two then, _logically_," he looks pointedly at me as he holds up a final finger, "she must be telling the truth."

I just stare at him, was I hearing him right, or was I going insane too?

He looks back at us, "Elizabeth is your friend. Lucy is your sister. They have never lied to you before. Trust them." He looks from me to Peter, "You're a family! You had best start acting like one!"

I realize, with a start, that we have been dismissed. I leave the study with Peter and return to my bed, but do not go to sleep; I have too much to think about...

**End of Chapter 10**

As always, reviews are much loved!

...okay! I admit it! I'm a review whore...


	11. Fleeing Footsteps

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 11**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Disclaimer:** (_checks her closet_) Nope... I don't own Narnia.

**Summary:** LWW, Peter/OC. Lizzie and the Pevensies are sent to an old manor in the country where they discover a certain magic wardrobe...

**Author's Note: **Thanks for yet another review imakeladrygirl!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

_June 3, 1940_

(Lizzie's POV)

If anyone is watching the five of us outside, they might think we are just five happy, young people playing around and enjoying the cool, but sunny day.

But that is not the case.

I'm sitting up in a tree, flipping through a book, but not really reading it. I alternate between glances at the book and watching Ed, Su, and Peter playing play a ball game.

I haven't spoken to any of them much, especially not Peter, in the last few days, but then again, none of then have exactly been talkative.

Lucy is sitting at the base of the tree looking at book of her own. I'm the only one she hasn't been ignoring.

For the last few days Edmund has been really surly and spacey, like he is daydreaming or something…

Susan has been trying to act normal by putting up a falsely cheerful façade. She is trying to get us all to interact with more than nods, glares, and grunts. But she is not having much success, as we haven't been very cooperative.

As a matter of fact, the only reason the five of us are all outside together is that the Macready kicked us out of the house so that she could show it to some tourists (the old house is a historical landmark).

Edmund has the bat now and Su is poised to catch any stray balls. Peter has the ball and is pitching.

I look back at the book. The next thing I hear is a thud and "Ow!"

Peter hit Ed with the ball; he hadn't been paying attention, again.

"Oops. Sorry." Says Peter, but you can tell he isn't.

Susan throws him the ball.

Peter winds up and pitches again, this time Edmund is ready; he slams the bat into the ball which in turn flies high into the air. I try to follow it with my eyes, but the leaves obstruct my vision.

I hear a crash: breaking glass.

I gasp and scramble down out of the tree. I run to stand with the others who are all looking up at one of the ancient stained glass windows which is now shattered.

The five of us race inside and up the stairs to find that not only did the window break, but the ball hit a medieval suit of armor which has crashed to the hall floor, disassembled and dented.

I suck in a breath, "Oh my."

Peter turns on Edmund, "Good going Ed!"

"You bowled it!" he growls furiously back.

I open my mouth to snap at them both when we all hear the even thud of footsteps.

"The Macready!" hisses Susan.

I grab Lucy's arm and run, "Come on!"

The five of us run up and down stairs and in and out of corridors but the advancing footsteps follow us, trap us, and force us to retreat. The sound is coming up from the floor and down from the ceiling; reverberating from the walls.

I feel as though, something, some power, is working through the house chasing us somewhere, but it is just the Macready.

Isn't it?

We find ourselves in the hall with the guest bedrooms. The footsteps are still behind us, forcing us onward.

Lucy tries the door to her room, it's locked.

I frown and try my door. Locked as well.

Now I feel a strange, foreboding sensation as I realize something.

None of these doors have _ever_ had locks on them.

"Come on!" Susan is holding the only unlocked door open. With a start I realize that this is the spare room, the wardrobe room, but with the footsteps close behind it is the only way out of the hall, so we all rush inside.

The sounds still pursue us.

Edmund goes to the wardrobe, opens the door, and gestures to the inside.

Susan stops, "You have got to be kidding!"

I push her after Lucy and into the wardrobe, "It's our best chance!"

Peter climbs in after me and pulls the door until there is only a crack of light.

He backs up and steps on my foot, "Ouch! Peter!"

"Sorry." He says.

"What is that smell?" asks Lucy.

"Camphor." Answers Ed from the back of the wardrobe.

"I suspect the pockets of these coats are full of it; to keep out moths." Says Susan.

Peter pushes me gently and whispers, "Back up, someone's coming."

I back up and into Susan, "Oh! Lizzie, you're on my foot!"

"Sorry I- Peter!"

"Ow!"

"Lucy stop poking me!"

"Ouch! I'm not!"

"Get off of me!"

"Oh!"

"Stop shoving!"

"Ed stop it!"

I notice that the softness and warmth of the coats has turned into a cold and unpleasant poking.

I gasp and fall forward into something even colder, and … wet?

**End of Chapter 11**

Reviews and reviewers are loved!


	12. Enchanted Wood

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 12**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **(luffs reviews) Thanks for the review iceprincess!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

I look up and see a brilliant white winter wonderland stretching before me. I realize that the cold wet stuff is snow. I stand up quickly and brush myself off, all the while staring in awe at everything around me.

I smile; I wasn't crazy after all.

Behind me, Susan and Peter are picking themselves up from the snow. They step through the branches with identical expressions of surprise and wonder on their faces.

"Impossible." Whispers Susan.

Peter seems speechless.

Lucy stands off to the side smiling smugly.

Peter looks at her apologetically, "I – I don't suppose 'sorry' would quite cover it, would it?" he says with a slight tremor in his voice.

Lucy shakes her head, "No." she gets a mischievous gleam in her eye, "But this will!" She takes a snowball from behind her back and chucks it at Peter's head.

Susan and I are laughing, but are silenced when another well thrown snowball from Lucy nails Susan and a handful from Peter hits my chest and some goes down my shirt.

I gasp and squeal as I franticly try to get the freezing snow out of my shirt.

Peter is laughing at me when a snowball from Susan hits him in the back. He whirls around, giving me a chance to jump him.

I hit him in the shoulder with a snowball and then empty a handful down his shirt in retribution.

The shock of the sudden cold against his skin throws him off balance and he falls, taking me with him, into a snowdrift.

Snowballs from Lucy and Susan rain down on my head and Peter's. The two of us stand up and mount a defense against the two girls.

It is then that an errant snowball hits Edmund. He cringes away and whines, "Ow! Stop it!"

The clearing goes dead silent as realization dawns on me and the older Pevensie children.

"You little liar!" says Peter suddenly.

Ed glares at him, "You didn't believe her either!"

"Apologize to Lucy." Growls Peter.

"Sorry." Mumbles Edmund, clearly not.

Lucy smiles, "I guess some little children just don't know when to stop pretending."

"Oh, very funny." Sneers Ed.

There is awkward silence for a moment that is quickly broken by Susan, "What do we do now?"

"We can't go back." I say, "The Macready will still be there."

Peter smiles, "I think Lucy should decide."

"Really!" smiles Lucy hopefully.

Peter nods.

"Then I'll take you all to see Mr. Tumnus!" cries Lucy.

Peter laughs, "Mr. Tumnus it is then!" but then he looks around at all of us shivering in the snow, especially me, as I'm wearing a short summer skirt which now has snow up it from my dunk in the drift.

Peter goes back into the wardrobe and returns with an armload of coats, "We can't very well go hiking about in nothing but our summer clothes." He says as he hands Lucy a coat. Susan looks about to protest but Peter gives her one too, "Besides, if you think about it _logically_, we're not even taking them out of the wardrobe."

He hands Edmund a giant, grey, monstrosity of a coat. Ed cringes away, "But that's a _girls_' coat!"

"I know." Says Peter with an undertone of hostility in his voice.

Next, Peter offers me a coat, but I drop it because your fingers are so numb from the cold.

Embarrassed, I reach down to pick it up, but Peter beats me to it. He picks it up and brushes it off before helping me into it.

He doesn't say anything; he seems to be trying to make up for something…

**End of Chapter 12**

Every time you don't review, Jadis turns a Narnian to stone.

Please.

Think of the Narnians.


	13. Memories of a Faun

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 13**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the review nascar-freak, and yes, he is cute ;)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Later, on the way to Mr. Tumnus' home)

Lucy is up ahead talking excitedly at Susan, who is looking preoccupied and increasingly worried.

I have started to lag behind the others, even Edmund, because I am lost in my thoughts.

My head is full of questions; how is this possible? Why did I believe Lucy without proof? And where have I heard the name, Narnia, before?

Narnia. Somehow, I know that name, but I can't remember where I heard it. I can almost remember a voice from long ago speaking it, but whose voice is it?

The voice speaks of other things as well:

Aslan.

Jadis.

Charn.

Something about a tree, a tree of protection.

All of it connects to Narnia.

Narnia.

I shut my eyes tightly and tune out all other sound. Slowly the voce becomes a little clearer…

I begin to hear the gravelly voice of my grandfather telling me about King Frank I.

King Frank?

"Lizzie?"

Startled, I jump and look up. Peter is walking beside me, looking at me with concern, "Peter!" I gasp.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you." He says quickly, "You were walking with your eyes closed, I, err, didn't want you to, um, run into anything."

"Oh. Ok."

The two of us walk on in silence.

"Um, Lizzie?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry." Says Peter, hanging his head.

"Why? For what?" I ask.

He looks up at me, "For the way I treated you. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"

"What? I – I mean, of course! I can't really blame you for what you did; I would have done the some in your place." I say, "Actually, I apologize too, for yelling at you..."

He smiles in relief as he nods, and after a moment he asks, "Why did you believe her?"

I shake my head, "I don't really know, but it's almost as though I have memories of Narnia, or stories about Narnia, maybe they are just dreams. I can't really tell."

Peter seems to not know what to say.

I clench my fists as I try to remember, "My grandfather has something to do with it."

Peter opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off when Susan says, "Lucy?"

I look up. Lucy has stopped and is staring in horror at the dark mouth of a cave. Suddenly, she runs at the cave, Peter calls her name and runs after her.

I follow Peter, and when we reach the entrance to the cave I see broken wood littered across the snow.

A door, I realize, has been broken down.

Deep paw prints, some as large as saucers, dot the nearly pristine landscape.

Then I notice that some of the trampled sow is discolored, red.

Blood.

Shivering from more than the cold, I enter the cave.

The small cave is actually a home, but it has been eviscerated, torn to pieces, in what looks to have been a brutal fit of rage.

Lucy is crying as Susan says, "Maybe we should go back."

"Wait." says Peter as he picks up a letter that has been nailed to the floor, "What's this?"

As Peter reads the letter aloud, I look around, not really listening. The small cavern is homey and, somehow, hauntingly familiar.

Peter reads off the name Tumnus. Something stirs inside of me; I have heard that name called in this place before, but it was not Peter's voice.

Maugrim.

I shiver.

I continue to wander and nearly step on something.

A painting.

My father?

No, Mr. Tumnus' father.

I put the picture down quickly as the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise.

There is a pot over on the cold stove, I take a peek at the frozen substance inside.

Carrot soup.

I turn to stir the carrot soup.

The door is blown in.

Maugrim.

I grab the fire poker.

Snow.

Blood.

Pain.

I scream.

"Liz! Lizzie!"

Peter's voice.

The pain and cold vividness of the dream leaves me lying on the hard floor of Mr. Tumnus' home, staring up at the Pevensies.

All of them are staring back at me with a mixture of fear and horror…

**End of Chapter 13**

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It's calling to you.

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	14. Enter the Beaver

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 14**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **ANY opinions you have are quite welcome:)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

I lie on the floor, shivering and stunned, drenched in a cold sweat.

Peter and Lucy are kneeling on either side of me, looking down at me with fear and concern. Su is clutching her coat tightly closed. Edmund has gone pale under his freckles.

"What happened?" I ask.

"That's what we want to know. I finished reading the letter when you collapsed and started shaking…" Peter tells me, his voice shaking a little at the end.

"We thought you were having a seizure or something, and then you started to scream." whispers Susan, eyes wide.

Lucy is trembling, "It w-was ho-horrible."

I struggle to sit up, but I feel drained, so Peter places a hand on my back to help me into a sitting position.

"It was Mr. Tumnus. He was taken by the secret police." I say.

Peter nods but looks confused, "Yes, that's what the letter said."

I shake my head, "No, You don't understand, it was like I was here." I explain but the others still look confused, "I mean, just now it was as though I _was_ Mr. Tumnus; I saw and felt everything through him! I was cooking dinner… but then the wolves came… Maugrim…" I shudder and rub my legs as the pain threatens to return.

"Wolves?" asks Edmund.

"They are the secret police. They're all great, hulking brutes who have sold their souls to the witch." I say.

The others look _extremely_ confused.

"Ok, now we REALLY should be going!" argues Susan again.

Ed speaks up, "Yes, especially if this faun is a criminal, perhaps we could go see this Queen..."

"Maybe we could call the police?" offers Peter.

Susan points at the note still in his hands, "They ARE the police!" she seems to be on the verge of hysteria.

"None of you get it do you?" says Lucy quietly. Until now she has been looking miserably down at her hands, but now she looks at all of us with a tearstained face, "Mr. Tumnus was arrested for 'fraternizing with a human'." She points at herself, "I'm that human!" she cries.

Everyone is silent as they consider this. I remember the pain and fear Mr. Tumnus felt and is probably still feeling, "We have to help him." I say.

Peter nods.

Susan starts to say something but stops when you all hear a 'pssst' sound. Susan looks around and sees a robin on the branch outside, looking at her, "Did that bird just 'pssst' us?"

Peter and Lucy help me to my feet.

I'm feeling better every moment, it's almost as though the very air I breathe in this place is charged with power.

We all walk out into the snow, but the bird flies away.

"Pssst!"

Something is moving in the darkness of the trees, something big.

Four of us (all except Ed) huddle together, Peter in front. Whatever it is, it's getting closer.

The branches rattle one last time as the creature steps into the light.

I blink in surprise.

It's a beaver.

I had been imagining giant wolves and god knows what else, and it is just a beaver.

A very large beaver.

Peter sticks out his hand and makes soft clicking noises, "Heeere beaver, here boy." He says.

"What are you doing?!" hisses Susan, but Peter ignores her.

Looking at the animal, I see the uncanny gleam of intelligence in its eyes.

The beaver comes closer.

"Here boy." Says Peter.

The beaver looks from Peter's hand up to his face, "Well I aint gonna smell it, if that's what you want."

We all gasp and take a collective step back. Embarrassed, Peter shoves his hand into his pocket.

"You can talk?" I say.

The beaver nods, "I'm Mr. Beaver." He turns to Lucy, "Lucy Pevensie?"

"Yes?"

Mr. Beaver holds out a handkerchief.

Lucy frowns, "Hey, that's the hankie I gave to Mr.–"

"Tumnus." says Beaver, handing the hankie to Lucy, "He got it to me just before they took 'im." He looks around nervously, then leans in closer and whispers, "Further in." He turns and waddles quickly into the forest.

Peter, Lucy, and I all start to follow him, but Susan holds me back, "Wait!"

"How do we know we can trust this beaver?" asks Edmund.

Peter shrugs, "He said he knows the faun."

"He's a BEAVER! He shouldn't be saying anything!" Susan practically screams.

The beaver comes back, "What are you doing?"

"Umm, Just talking." I say.

Mr. Beaver looks around nervously again, "That's better left for safer quarters. Not here, her spies are everywhere." He turns and goes back into the trees.

Lucy glances up into the branches, "He means the trees." She whispers.

Peter, Lucy, and I all follow Mr. Beaver. Susan and Edmund also follow, resigned and unhappy.

**End of Chapter 14**

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	15. Bewildered by Beavers

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 15**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **ANY opinions you have are quite welcome:) Thanks again nascar-freak!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

As we all hurry through the forest, I realize that the sky is getting darker, heavy clouds gather overhead. A storm is coming, I can smell it. I can sense it.

The trees around us start to thin and ahead I see a dammed up, frozen stream with a wooden beaver house on top.

Lucy smiles in delight, "It's wonderful!"

I see smoke rising from the chimney. Smoke means fire, fire means warmth and most likely, food. I sigh happily, "It's beautiful!"

Mr. Beaver waves off the compliments, "Oh, It's a mere trifle. Not even finished yet. Be the look o business when it is though." But I look closer and see that he is smiling, obviously pleased.

A small figure comes out of the dam, "Beaver? Is that you?" comes a female voice. I see a female beaver, Mr. Beaver's wife, I realize.

She comes toward us, "If I find you've been at Badger's again I-I … Oh!" her eyes widen as she sees us humans, "Well those certainly aren't badgers!"

Mr. Beaver steps forward to greet his wife and she says, "Oh Dear! You've found them," then she nervously flattens her fur and whispers furiously at him, "You couldn't have given me TEN minutes warning?"

Mr. Beaver laughs, "I'd have given you a week if I thought it would've helped!"

Mrs. Beaver huffs at him before turning to the five of us children, "Come inside dears and we'll see if we can't find you some _civilized_ company."

Mr. Beaver just chuckles as we all walk inside. I turn to see Edmund staring wistfully at a pair of dark hills in the distance.

Mr. Beaver looks Edmund up and down and narrows his eyes suspiciously, "Enjoyin' the scenery are we?"

Edmund sneers at him before following me inside.

(Inside, a few minutes later)

Once inside, Mrs. Beaver takes our coats to hang them up. She stops and looks at us all, "Oh! I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

Confused, I ask, "Umm, begging your pardon, but what day?"

Mr. Beaver sits down, "All will be told in time, but not right now, now is the time for food and warmth."

Mrs. Beaver sets a tray of food on the table, "Fish and chips anyone?"

As we all settle in to thaw, there is a long silence, then Lucy speaks up, "Sir? Where did the witch take poor Mr. Tumnus?"

Mr. Beaver puts down the fish he was eating and looks at Lucy solemnly, "Her police will have taken him to Her house." he shudders, "There's not many taken in there that ever come out again."

"But we've got to do something!" I say.

Peter nods, "This faun saved my sister at his own risk, Mr. Beaver. We can't just leave him to be tortured or worse!"

"It's no good, Son of Adam," says Mr. Beaver, "no good _your_ trying, of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move…"

It is then that a strange thing happens, I feel the warmth of happiness and recognition that I would feel if I were to see a favorite family member after a long time.

Peter looks somehow older and braver. Susan has the ghost of a smile on her lips, almost as though she is listening to the distant, sweet sound of music. Lucy is positively glowing, but Edmund, however, looks sick.

"Who is Aslan?" I ask, almost breathlessly.

"Who is Aslan?" laughs Mr. Beaver, before realizing that we really don't know. His face falls, "You really don't know do ya? You've got to be JOKING!" he turns to his wife, "They don't even know about the prophecy!"

"Well, tell them." She says softly.

Mr. Beaver takes a deep breath, "You see, there's a prophecy…

When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone

Sits at Cair Paravel in throne

The Evil time will be over and done

"But that doesn't even rhyme!" protests Susan.

"Well I know it don't! But you're kinda missin' the point!" says Mr. Beaver, "When two Sons of Adam," he indicates Peter and Edmund, "and two Daughters of Eve," he points at Susan and Lucy, "sit on the four thrones of Cair Paravel, then the Witch will be dead and this horrible winter will be over."

There is a heavy silence, and then I ask, "What about me? Why am I here? Aren't I a 'Daughter of Eve' as well?"

Mr. Beaver's eyes widen in disbelief as he turns to his wife again, "She doesn't even know who she is!"

Mrs. Beaver shushes him then turns to me and takes one of my hands in both of her paws, "Well Dear, you are not a Daughter of Eve. Not completely anyway. You are one of the People."

I shake your head, still confused, "Doesn't that mean I'm human?"

Mr. Beaver speaks up, "No, no! One of the People, the People of the forest, The People of the Earth, the Sky and the Water!" He puts a paw on his chest, "One of us!"

I just stare at him but Edmund laughs, "She doesn't look like a beaver to me!"

Mr. Beaver turns on him, "Of course she's not a beaver! She is something much nobler." He shakes his head again, "The prophecy I told you before is only a small part of a larger one written at the base of the Stone Table. Another part of the Prophesy makes reference to one of Narnian blood who will come from beyond the world's end, with the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, to be our Guardian and Protector of the Four Thrones."

I laugh nervously, "This is crazy!"

Peter, seeing another Beaver explosion, quickly changes the topic, "But who is Aslan?"

"Yes! Tell us about Aslan!" cries Lucy.

Mr. Beaver smiles, "Aslan is the true Lord of Narnia, the son of the Emperor over the Sea, and he's waiting for you all at the Stone Table!"

"Waiting for us?" asks Peter.

"Why?" I ask.

Mr. Beaver looks at us as though we are all daft, "To lead you all in the battle for Narnia! To defeat the White Witch!"

Peter's eyes widen, "You think were the ones? But you don't understand; were not heroes!"

"We're from _Finchley_!" cries Susan.

"Well you better be, 'cause Aslan's already fitted out your army!" Mr. Beaver practically yells.

"ARMY?" Susan stands up, "No! Mum sent us away so we wouldn't get caught up in a war! Peter, Lizzie, lets go." She busies herself with collecting the coats.

"But you can't leave now!" pleads Mrs. Beaver.

"We're sorry, but we have to go." Says Peter.

Then, I notice something.

"Where's Ed?" I ask.

Everyone looks around for Edmund. Lucy finds the front door ajar. Peter turns white with fury, "I'm gonna kill him!"

"You may not have to." Says Mr. Beaver, "Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

**End of Chapter 15**

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	16. To the Witch's House

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 16**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **ANY opinions you have are very welcome:) Thanks nascar-freak! Actually it didn't take too long... I tried to write an actual prophecy, but it ended up sounding really stupid cuz I'm no good with rhyme schemes. So I just made Mr. Beaver tell them the gist of it.

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

"Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

The four of us humans share a look and I have an unpleasant, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

We all rush outside to look for Edmund.

The dark clouds I had noticed earlier have turned into a heavy snowfall that is swiftly becoming a nasty blizzard.

Edmunds tracks, if there were any, are long gone.

"Maybe he went back to the wardrobe." Peter points back in the direction the six of us had originally come from.

Somehow, I knew that was wrong. "No, Peter, he went that way." I blurt out as I point at the two dark hills in the distance.

Peter looks at me, "How do you know?"

"I-I'm not sure, I just know he went that way. It feels like he went that way." I murmur.

Peter, Susan, and Lucy look hesitant. I feel confused myself, but not unsure, I know where Edmund went, if not why.

Mr. Beaver is scowling darkly, "You're right Lady, there, between those hills, that's where the witch's house is."

After a short, tense moment, Lucy takes my hand and says, "She was right about the Wardrobe wasn't she?"

Peter nods at me, "Lead the way, Lizzie."

I nod back and head north. Once we hit the relative shelter of the trees, Mr. Beaver finds a few of Edmund's tracks still in tact.

The wind starts to howl furiously. Snow is driven into our faces, making it hard to see and wiping away the last of Edmund's tracks, but I know where he is going and so we continue on.

Some time later we reach the top of a hill, the wind has died down but the snow still falls heavily.

Susan gasps.

Ahead is a magnificent castle of shining ice.

I squint and see a small figure entering the front gates.

Edmund.

Peter sees him too, "Edmund!" he yells.

"Shush! They'll hear you!" hisses Mr. Beaver.

Peter darts forward, intent on storming the castle himself.

Mr. Beaver lunges for his coat, but misses.

I run forward and grab him to pull him back, "No Peter!"

He struggles, "Lizzie, let me go!" he yanks himself out of my grip.

"Son of Adam!" says Mr. Beaver sternly, "You can't go! Don't you see? That's exactly what she wants! Edmund is just the bait; she wants all five of you!"

"But why?" asks Peter.

"To stop the Prophecies from comin' true! To kill ya!"

Peter looks hopelessly back at the castle.

"This is all your fault!" cries Susan suddenly.

"Oh, so you knew this would happen?" retorts Peter.

"I didn't know what would happen, which is why we should have left while we still could!"

"Shut it! Both of you!" I yell angrily.

"This isn't going to help Edmund." Says Lucy quietly.

I turn to Mr. Beaver, "What can we do to get him back?"

"The only one who can help him now is Aslan." Says Mr. Beaver solemnly.

Peter's face is white with fear. He takes a deep, shaky breath, but when he speaks, his voice is steady, "Then take us to him."

**End of Chapter 16**


	17. Badger in Stone

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 17**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **

iceprincess: Thanks again! I'ma going! I'ma going!

musafa: Thanks so much! I'm trying to _not_ portray Lizzie as a Mary Sue, and that's part of that... I want all of them to just be as human as possible. I don't want this to be like most other fics. ;)

Wow, I've gotten most of this fic written down, and the rest is in my head, so hopefully I won't be taking any long breaks due to writers block! Also, I have several sequels and side stories planned, but I'll only write and publish them if enough people like this story.

So if you want more, be sure to review and let me know that you like it!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Back at the Beavers' house)

We are almost back to the dam when the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. I stop and look back at the twin hills in the distance.

"Lizzie? What's wrong?" asks Lucy.

"Something is coming." I whisper.

"It's Her wolves!" hollers Mr. Beaver as he dashes towards his house.

Just as we reach the door, I hear the first howl.

They have picked up our trail.

We enter the house to find Mrs. Beaver packing things, "What are you doing?!"

She waddles across the room, "You'll thank me later; Beaver gets pretty cranky when he's hungry."

"I'm cranky now!"

Susan looks at what Mrs. Beaver is packing, "You think we'll need jam?!"

Peter is watching out the window, "Only if the Witch serves toast!"

I hear scratching on the walls.

They are here.

Mr. Beaver stops his wife's packing and herds us all into a secret tunnel.

We all stumble into the darkness. I'm holding Lucy's hand and, with the other hand, holding the back of Peter's coat so I don't lose him.

Mr. Beaver is in the lead, "These tunnels come up right under Badger's place." He explains.

Mrs. Beaver puts her paws on her hips, "I thought you said they led to your mother's!"

Lucy trips and I stop to help her up. Behind, I hear scrabbling and muffled howls, "They're in the tunnels!" I whisper.

Mr. Beaver quickens the pace and we soon find ourselves in a dead end.

"We should have brought a map!" cries Mrs. Beaver.

Mr. Beaver turns to her, "There wasn't room next to the jam!" he scrambles up a slope and breaks out into the world outside.

We all follow him. I am the last to scramble out of the tunnel. Once I'm out, Peter and Mr. Beaver roll a barrel of some sloshing liquid over the entrance.

Lucy falls backwards over something. I help her up and we both take a closer look at what tripped her.

Stone animals.

How curious.

I reach out to touch the ear of a small rabbit, but I draw back when I feel an icy stiffness enter my bones.

"I'm so sorry dear." says Mrs. Beaver.

I look over at the Beavers.

Mr. Beaver is paw to paw with a large, stone Badger...

Aslan has come back to Narnia...

I smile at the thought as I lay the gifts of food and wine on the table.

Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit and their young ones (all five) have come to join the small feast.

I stand with a glass in my large badger paw, about to make a toast to Aslan, when I'm interrupted by an unpleasant sight.

The Witch.

She stares me down icily, "What is the meaning of this?"

Nobody answers.

"Speak vermin!" she screeches, "Or do you want my dwarf to find you a tongue with his whip? What is the meaning of all this gluttony, this waste, this self-indulgence? Where did you get these things?"

"Please, your Majesty," I say, "We were given them. And if I might make so bold as to drink to your Majesty's very good heath-"

"Who gave them to you?"

"Father Christmas." I say evenly.

"WHAT?" roars the Witch. "He has not been here! He can not have been here! How DARE you – but no... Say you have been lying and you shall even now be forgiven."

But at that moment, the youngest of the rabbits bangs her fork on the table, "He has! He has! He has!" she squeaks.

I see the Witch bite her lip in fierce anger and a drop of blood appears on her cheek.

Then she raises her wand...

"Lizzie? Are you all right?" asks Peter quietly. I feel his hand on your shoulder.

I realize that I'm kneeling in the snow, trembling violently. In my hands I hold the small stone body of the youngest rabbit; her fork still raised in her paw and her small, stone face still snarling in defiance.

"It was the Witch, she did this." I manage to say as Peter helps me up. I feel a surge of rage, "She will pay for doing this to my people!"

My people?

Where had that come from?

"This is what happens to those who would betray the Queen!" interrupts a strange voice.

We all whirl around to see a fox watching us all from the top of a rock.

Mr. Beaver lunges at him, "You bloody traitor!"

"Easy! Easy!" laughs the Fox, "I'm one of the good guys!"

"Well you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones!" growls Mr. Beaver.

"An unfortunate family resemblance." replies the Fox as he leaps down from his perch, "But we can argue breeding later, for now, you have to hide."

"What do you suggest?" asks Peter, knowing we have little choice...

The Fox smiles.

**End of Chapter 17**

Sorry if that bit was a little confusing... In case you didn't get it, Lizzie was seeing what Badger had seen right before he got stoned. Stoned, haha, I crack myself up.

I didn't put anything to clue you into the change in POV, because it's supposed to be as confusing to you as it is to Lizzie. Erk, It confuses me too...


	18. A Fox Among Wolves

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 18**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note:** Thanks nascar-freak, I think you'll just have to wait to find out why Lizzie sees so many things, but there is a reason... :)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(A few minutes later)

We are all up in the branches of a gnarled old tree trying desperately to be silent. Even the Beavers are in the tree, due to a lot of help from Peter and me.

The wolves erupt from the tunnel just as the Fox is wiping away the last of our tracks, "Well hello chaps!" he says.

Maugrim steps forward and growls, "We know whose side you're on scum. Now, four humans passed through here recently. Tell me where they went."

The Fox backs up nervously, but he is surrounded by wolves, "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

One of the wolves lunges forward.

Peter, guessing what's next, wraps his arm around my waist and covers my mouth.

The wolf's jaws close around the small body of the Fox.

The Fox yelps.

I try to scream.

A crushing pain closes in around me.

Daggers of fire enter my back.

Teeth.

I arch your back; it's hard to breathe.

I whimper and struggle against him, but Peter holds me tightly.

Maugrim's face is snarling at me but Peter is whispering in my ear, "Shhh, Lizzie. It's okay, you're going to be okay, Lizzie." I slow my breathing and concentrate on him.

The pain releases me as the Fox's small, furry body hits the ground. The wolves take off and Peter loosens his grip on me.

When it is safe, we all leave the tree.

I hold the fox gently in the warmth of my coat as Peter and Mr. Beaver build a small fire. Lucy strokes his head and he smiles up at her in contentment.

Mr. Beaver feeds the fire as Mrs. Beaver tends the Fox's wounds.

"How is it?" Susan asks.

The Fox winces, "I wish I could say their bark was worse than their bite – ah!" he yelps as Mrs. Beaver cleans a particularly nasty cut.

"Oh, stop it! You're worse than Beaver on bath day!" she says.

Mr. Beaver shudders, "Worst day of the year!"

I smile.

The Fox stands, "Thank you, but I'm afraid that's all the cure I have time for. You see. Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."

"Really!?"

"Oh, what's he like?" breathes Mrs. Beaver.

The Fox smiles, "Like all we've ever dreamed of." He turns to the four of us humans, "It has been an honor Your Majesties," he bows to Peter and the girls, who all turn red. He looks at me, "My Lady, please protect them, they are our last hope."

My eyes widen and I nod numbly.

The Fox smiles and nods back, "Then farewell."

Afterwards, the Beavers lead us to a small, cramped cave where we all fall asleep for a few, cold, restless hours. Mr. Beaver wakes us up just as the sun is crawling over the horizon; it's a brilliant winter day.

We leave the cave and start plowing through the snow.

After what seems like an eternity of trudging through the cold, we find ourselves on a giant, bridge-like rock formation.

The world stretches before me. My eyes widen as I stare at it in awe.

A warm breeze teases my skin.

In that moment, I want nothing more than to run, to roar, to see the earth in all its glory stretching before me, to feel it beneath my pounding paws...

Paws?

"We'll have to cross the frozen lake." explains Mr. Beaver.

"Lake?" asks Susan.

Mrs. Beaver laughs, "Don't worry, the lake has been frozen solid for a hundred years."

Mr. Beaver continues, "Then we'll cross the Great River, Aslan's camp is just beyond that; near the Fords of Beruna."

Peter sighs wearily as he looks at the great expanse, "But it's so far."

Mrs. Beaver chuckles, "That's the world dear."

I raise my eyebrows and smile mysteriously at Peter, "Did you expect it to be small?"

Susan glares at us both, "Smaller."

**End of Chapter 18**

Please review!


	19. I Spy a Frozen Lake

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 19**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **Reviewers are always loved! If you like this story and you want me to write more, be sure to let me know with reviews! I'm only going to continue with a sequel if enough people like this story. Many Thanks in advance:)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Some time later, on the frozen lake)

"I spy something white." says Susan.

Lucy snorts, "Snow."

"I spy something green."

"Tree."

"I spy something brown."

"My coat."

"I'm bored."

"Me too."

Mr. Beaver stops and turns around "Come on kids, while we're still young!"

By this time, my legs are burning and at the same time, they're nearly numb with the cold. I'm feeling very short tempered.

Susan sighs, "I spy something white."

"Snow. You said that one already." complains Lucy.

"This is stupid." I mutter.

"Hurry up!" calls Beaver.

"How about this one," says Peter, "I spy something blue."

"Blue?"

"Mm, Hmm."

"Hurry it up!"

"I have no idea." says Lucy.

"Do you give up?"

"Yeah, tell me what it is!"

Peter grins, "Lizzie's lips"

I shoot him a half-hearted glare, "Don't make me hurt you."

"Pick up the pace!"

By now, Lucy is starting to lag behind, so Peter stops and carries her piggy-back. As Lucy is settling in, Mr. Beaver yells again, "Hurry!"

"If he tells us to hurry up one more time, I'll turn him into a big, fluffy, hat!" growls Peter.

"Come on! Hurry up! NOW!"

"He is getting rather bossy." I say.

Mr. Beaver is jumping up and down, waving his paws in the air and pointing, "Come on! It's HER! RUN!"

I look over my shoulder and see a swiftly approaching flurry of snow.

A sledge.

The Witch!

I take off running right behind Susan. When I stop for a moment to risk a glance behind, I see that Peter and Lucy are far behind.

Poor Lucy's face is red and her mouth is open, gasping for air, and she is pumping her short legs as fast as she can.

I run back to help.

Peter looks up and sees me running back, "Lizzie, what are you doing? Run!"

I say nothing as I grab Lucy's other hand to help her.

"Please Lizzie! I'll get Lucy. Just get yourself out of here!" he yells.

"Stop being an idiot!" I snap.

"But-"

"No! I'm not leaving you!"

The snow is slowing us down. It's like running through mud. By the time we reach the trees, I'm in a world of hurt.

Behind, I can hear the thudding of hooves and the jingle of bells.

With panic rising in my throat, I plunge into the forest.

"In here!" cries Mrs. Beaver as she shows us a shallow cave.

We all duck inside, we're safe.

But for how long?

**End of Chapter 19**

Thanks for reading, and _please_, please PLEASE review!


	20. Father Christmas

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 20**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

I hear the bells come nearer, and then stop.

Someone gets out of the sledge.

A shadow moves across the ground.

Silence.

"Is she gone?" whispers Lu.

"I'll go look." I whisper as I move to get up.

"No, Lizzie." Peter says as he pulls me back, "I will."

But Beaver stops him and says to both of us, "No! Neither of you are worth anything to Narnia dead!"

He starts to leave the cave but Mrs. Beaver places a paw on his arm, "But neither are you Beaver!"

He wraps his paws around hers, "Thanks Love."

He scrambles out of the cave.

More silence.

Then, suddenly, Mr. Beaver's head appears above the cave opening. Susan and Lucy scream, but Beaver is laughing jovially, "Come out! Come out! I hope you've all been good, 'cause there's someone here to see ya!"

Curious and a little confused, we all leave the cave and climb the snowy bank.

There, in the glistening winter sunlight stands a man. Behind him are eight little reindeer all hitched to a beautiful red sleigh with little silver bells.

The man is a rather rotund figure. He is all dressed in red and he has shocking white hair that covers his face and the majority of his head.

He is smiling.

"Father Christmas?" I ask.

The man, Father Christmas, laughs joyously and nods.

Peter comes to stand beside me, there is a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "But I thought Christmas never came to Narnia." He says.

Father Christmas laughs again, "It has been a long time; the Witch's magic has kept me away, but no more, not now that Aslan has come!" he raises his arms, "Christmas has returned! And speaking of which, I have a few things for you all..."

"Presents!" cries Lucy as Father Christmas hauls a huge red sack out of the sleigh.

Father Christmas laughs as he opens the bag, "Yes, and now it is time for presents! There is a new and better sewing machine for you Mrs. Beaver. I will drop it in your house as I pass."

"If you please, sir," said Mrs. Beaver, making a curtsey, "It's all locked up."

"Locks and bolts make no difference to me," smiled Father Christmas. "And as for you Mr. Beaver, when you get home you will find your dam finished and mended, all the leaks will be stopped and a new sluice gate fitted."

Mr. Beaver is so pleased that his mouth drops open, but he says nothing.

Father Christmas digs two things out of the bag and holds them in his large hands, "Lucy Pevensie." He says.

Lucy comes forward and he hands her a small diamond bottle filled with a fiery red substance, "In this bottle," he said, "There is a cordial made from the juice of the fire-flowers that grow in the Mountains of the Sun. If you or any of your friends are hurt, a few drops of this will restore them."

Lucy takes the bottle gently as she nods.

"Battles are ugly affairs," he says as he hands Lucy a small dagger, "This dagger is to defend yourself at great need only, for I do not mean you to be in the battle."

"I-I think I could be brave enough." She says quietly.

He chuckles, "I'm sure you could be." He pulls more things out of the sack, "Susan Pevensie."

Susan steps forward and gasps as she is handed a beautiful recurve bow inlaid with red enamel and gold, and a matching quiver of arrows.

"Trust in this bow," he says, "for it will not easily miss."

"Whatever happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?" asks Susan nervously.

He smiles as he hands her the second present, a small lion shaped ivory horn, "When you put this horn to your lips and blow it, then, wherever you are, help will come."

"Thank you." She murmurs.

"Elizabeth Robinette."

To me he gives a sword. My hands shake as I take it. The scabbard is black leather with a silver lion motif, the hilt is wrapped in silver wire, and the pommel bears the small silver head of a lioness.

I unsheathe the sword to discover that the blade bears a message, 'Courage is born of Love.'

"Take this," he says, "and use it with the courage to defend the ones you love."

I nod, speechless.

He than hands me a small black box and says, "Your father wanted you to have this."

"My father?" I whisper as I open the box to find my father's ring. I gasp as I take it from the box, it is an amazing piece of metalwork; three lions intertwining around the band in a Celtic-knot-like beauty. I can remember it from my childhood; my father always wore it on a chain around his neck because it was too small for him. But not for me, I discover as I slip it on my finger.

A lump builds in my throat, "Then he really is..."

I knew it was silly to think my Dad would have survived his plane crash, but I had hoped. Now, faced with the reality, I have to believe.

I clench my fist around Dad's ring and I bite my lips to stop from bawling like a baby, but the cursed tears are already running down my face. I lower my head to try to hide behind a curtain of hair, but it's too late. I gasp out a small sob.

Lucy, seeing my tears, comes over and puts her arms around me. Despite being so many years younger, she's the one comforting me. I also feel a light hand, stroking my hair soothingly and a warm and gentle hand touching my arm reassuringly. Peter and Susan are there too.

For the first time I see sadness in Father Christmas' face, but he takes my chin in his hand and raises my face. He looks into my eyes and says mysteriously, "You will see him again."

I nod and swallow the lump; somehow, I feel better hearing him say that, "Thank you sir..." I whisper, trying to wipe away tears.

"Peter Pevensie."

"Yes sir?"

"These are your presents." With these words he gives Peter a sword and shield. The sword is like to mine except that it is red leather and gold, and is graced with a gold lion head on the pommel. It is a bit larger than mine, as it is more fit to Peter's size, like mine is fit perfectly to my weight and balance.

Father Christmas also gives to Peter a silver shield with a great red lion stamped across it, "Now, Lizzie and Peter, these are tools, not toys. The time to use them is perhaps near at hand. Bear them well."

We both nod solemnly.

Father Christmas laughs, "And now it is time I was getting on, winter is almost over and I still have some presents to deliver! After all, things DO pile up when you've been gone a hundred years!" with that, he springs lightly into his sleigh and cracks his whip, "Merry Christmas to all, and long live the true king!" he shouts as he speeds away.

"We had best be going." says Peter as he buckles on his sword.

"Why the hurry?" asks Susan.

"He said winter is almost over, and you know what that means." says Peter.

We all look at him, confused.

"No more ice!"

With a snap, I remember; we still have a river to cross!

**End of Chapter 20**

Please review! Reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and are the perfect protection against writers block! XP


	21. The not so Frozen River

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 21**

**By: **Koinu-chan16

**Author's Note: **Thanks yet again nascar-freak, hehehe, I love writing cliffies! Oh the suspense!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(A short while later, on the banks of the quickly thawing river)

Peter was right; the river is melting, fast.

"How are we going to cross THAT?" asks Susan.

Then behind us, I hear the distant howl of hunting wolves.

"Beavers build dams, right?!" asks Lucy.

"I'm not that fast dear!"

"There's no other way. We have to cross, now, before it melts completely." I say as I start down the bank.

But Susan holds me back, "Wait! Let's just think about this for a moment!"

"NO! There's no time!" says Peter as he takes Lucy's hand.

"I'm just trying to be realistic." She says.

"No, you're trying to be smart, as usual." He replies before continuing down to the swelling river.

Susan is silent as we follow him.

Once we are all down by the water, Peter makes a move to cross the water, but Beaver stops him. "No," he says, "maybe I should go first."

Beaver places his paws on the ice and moves cautiously forward, slapping it with his tail to check for weaknesses.

The ice sinks beneath him.

Mrs. Beaver narrows her eyes, "Beaver! You've been sneaking second helpings again, haven't you?"

He chuckles, "You never know which meal is gonna be your last ... 'specialy with your cookin'." He mutters. He motions for us to follow him.

We all move forward carefully across the ice.

About halfway across, wolves materialize on the bank behind us.

"Oh, no!" Lucy screams as the wolves run across the top of the waterfall to block the path to the other side.

The largest of the wolves steps forward. He is huge; his shoulder would come to my waist and his paws are as big as dinner plates. He bares his teeth in an evil grin.

"Maugrim." I whisper.

Maugrim's ears prick up and he snarls at me.

Peter steps in front of me and draws his sword, "You stay away from her!"

Maugrim laughs "Put it away boy."

He creeps closer.

Stalking us.

Hunting us.

Mr. Beaver goes down on all fours and tries to fend off the wolf, but Maugrim throws him down on the ice and pins him with a huge paw. Mrs. Beaver screams.

A couple of wolves try to surprise us from behind, but I draw my sword to warn them away.

Mr. Beaver, still pinned, is yelling at Peter, "Kill 'im! Run 'im through!"

Maugrim says, "Put the sword away and I will let you go back to wherever you came from. That's all my queen really wants."

Susan puts a hand on Peter's arm, "Maybe we should listen to him, Peter."

"No! Don't listen to him! Kill him Son of Adam!" yells Beaver.

Maugrim is now looking at Susan, he narrows his eyes and says quietly, "Smart girl."

By now I've had enough, "Just kill him Peter! If you don't kill him, they are going to kill us!" I'm still keeping the other wolves at bay.

Peter moves forward, but Susan grabs him, "No! Just because a man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero!"

"You better decide boy!" Maugrim presses his paw down harder on Beaver's throat, "Because I can't wait for ever," he glances at the waterfall, "And neither will the river."

I risk a look at the waterfall and find that tiny sprays of water are bursting out of the ice.

Maugrim was right.

There is little time.

Peter, also seeing the waterfall, seems to decide on something, "Hold on to me!" he yells as he plunges his sword into the ice.

Lucy and Susan wrap their arms around Peter's waist. I sheathe my sword and barely have enough time to grab Peter's coat before the waterfall collapses.

Lucy screams.

I go down on my knees as I feel myself rising and being borne forward at a great speed.

Then, suddenly, I'm forced down by a great weight into darkness.

The icy water feels like a huge fist has punched me in the chest.

Shocked, I nearly let go of Peter's coat, but a strong hand grabs my arm and holds me with the others.

The pressure around me lightens and then lifts as the chunk of ice surfaces.

Peter grips my arm tightly and tries to help me onto the ice. I'm almost on when a wave pulls me back in the river.

Peter's hold on me is slipping; he now only holds my hand. I hold onto him for dear life, but my hand is numb, I can't feel his hand in mine. My fingers are slipping...

I struggle to pull myself back up, but the freezing water has stolen my strength.

It pulls at me incessantly.

It won't let me loose.

It seems hopeless.

What if I just let go?

Peter must see the hopeless feelings in my face, because he yells, "Don't you let go Lizzie!"

He tries to pull me up again, but it is then that a submerged tree branch slams into my side sending a searing pain through my ribs, arm, and neck.

I scream as I am ripped out of Peter's grip...

**End of Chapter 21**

Oooh, Cliffie! Please review!


	22. Awakening

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 22**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn (Koinu-chan16)

**Author's Note: **As you can see, I've changed my pen name, but it's still the same old me! This name just fits me better.

BIG thanks to everyone who has reviewed!

musafa: YES! A cliffie! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!

brezzybrez: A little review happy are we? Not that that's a problem, lol! Thanks, and here is your update!

nascar-freak: OMG! Here's your update!

DragonObsessed: Well thank you! And here's your update so you can keep on reading!

Good Girl'z Dead: Yes it was a good cliffie wasn't it. :)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

The last thing I hear as the water closes over my head is Peter screaming my name.

The branch is caught on my right leg.

It pulls me down.

I fight against it, but the water is slowing me down, stabbing me with thousands of tiny needles.

The world is turned upside down and sideways.

Then, the branch gets stuck.

I am pinned to the bottom of the river.

My lungs are burning as I struggle sluggishly against my captor.

It feels as though I'm moving through concrete.

I'm frightened beyond reason as I lose the battle.

I go limp and icy river water pours into my mouth.

It's over...

Then, something happens...

I feel something change; it's like a shiver running up my spine. I feel my body shift, like the joints are rearranging themselves. My lungs are full of air and I feel warmer, I feel stronger.

I tear away at the branch and it disintegrates under my barrage. I am now released back to the mercy of the river's current; I fight for the surface.

My head emerges into the air long enough for a breath before I'm overcome by another wave.

As I'm being tossed around beneath the waves, I'm slammed into something soft and slightly bony.

It wraps arms around me!

Just before I scream, I realize that it is Lucy.

Lucy can't swim.

Giving up is not an option now; Lucy's life is now in my hands.

I struggle back to the top.

Lucy takes a huge, gasping breath before more water washes over our heads, but now I stay on the surface.

I swim strongly for the shore where I claw my way up the bank with Lucy still clinging to me.

Now out of danger, I feel my strength being sapped away.

I am down on all fours, gasping for breath, with Lucy beneath me.

I look down at her to make sure she's alright and I'm surprised to find that her face is as white as the snow and her eyes are wide in terror.

I hear Susan's voice screaming Lucy's name and the clear ringing of a sword being drawn.

I feel the cold, sharp tip of a sword pressed against my neck, "Get away from her, beast!" says Peter with a menacing glare.

"What the hell! ...Peter! What are you doing?!" I yell at him, but my voice sounds strange, deeper than normal...

Peter backs up, "How do you know my name?"

"What are you talking about..." something flicks in and out of my vision.

I stop to look at it.

It's a tail.

A long, tawny colored tail, tipped with a wet puff of brown fur.

It's lashing with impatience.

I turn my head further to get a better look.

The tail is attached to a long, lithe, feline body.

It's my body...

Looking back down at Lucy, I see large, yellow paws on either side of her head.

I flex my hands.

I gasp as sharp, black claws emerge from the paws.

A lioness...

I've become a lioness...

**End of Chapter 22**

Well, her secret's out now... One of them anyway... At least you know why it's called the "Chronicles of the Lioness" now! What do you think? Shall I continue? Thank you for reading and please review!


	23. Lioness

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 23**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**Author's Note: **Wow! Many thanks to everyone who reviewed! You have no idea how giddy I am right now! THANK YOU!!

Good Girl'z Dead: Thanks! I just wanted to make sure people like my story because all of my reviews have been coming from the same five or six people...

Mrs. St. John Allerdyce: Thank you! I'm going!

nascar-freak: "What the hell!" lol! Thank you and here is your update!

musafa: Thanks! I didn't think it was _that_ unexpected, lol! But, then I'm the author...

DragonObsessed: Thanks very much for reviewing! I didn't think it was that impressive, so thank you again!

iceprincess: Thanks! (makes like a banana and splits to write more)

brezzybrez: Thank you for the review! I'm glad no one has used the idea of transformation yet, I don't want to be accused of plagiarism:( Thanks again!

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

I feel the blade at my neck again, "Back away."

I look at Lucy in the eyes, "Lucy, what's happening to me?"

Lucy, still terrified, looks from my fangs up to my eyes. As she realizes who I am she gasps and flings her arms around my neck, "Peter, don't hurt her!" she cries.

Peter is taken aback. Susan is confused, "Lucy, what's going on?" she asks.

Lucy is about to answer when I feel the strange shift in my body again, only this time, it is in reverse. The next thing I know, my head is in Lucy's lap, I'm coughing up river water, and it feels like my body has turned into a puddle of jelly.

Peter's mouth falls open and he drops his sword in surprise, "Lizzie!"

With Lucy's help I sit up.

Peter sinks to his knees in front of me, "You're alive!" he gasps, "Oh, god, I thought you were... you had... the river..." he stops to take a deep breath. I notice that he is pale and shaking with relief.

Susan is staring at me, "What are you?" she whispers.

Then Mr. Beaver says, "She is your guardian, the great Protectoress of Narnia."

There is a heavy silence, and then Peter stands and says quietly, "We had better get going. We still have to get to Aslan if we ever want to save Ed." He smiles at me and offers his hand to help me up.

I reach up to take it but whimper and draw back as pain flares through my side.

Mrs. Beaver narrows her eyes suspiciously, walks over to me, and pulls up my shirt.

I squeal in surprise. Peter flushes red and quickly turns around. I glare at Mrs. Beaver, "What are you doing?!"

Mrs. Beaver reaches out a cool paw to touch my side (which is quickly turning funny colors).

I shy away from her touch.

"As I suspected; broken ribs." says Mrs. Beaver, "Three of them."

"Oh!" gasps Lucy as she brings out her little diamond bottle, "I can fix it!"

I shake my head, "It's only a couple of ribs; they can heal. Besides, you don't want to waste that stuff."

"Nonsense!" says Mrs. Beaver, "How can you be expected to defend our sovereigns when you can't even lift your arm!" she nods at Lucy, giving her the go ahead.

Lucy pulls the stopper out of the bottle, "Okay, um, tilt your head back and open your mouth."

Susan, Peter, and the Beavers watch curiously as I do as I'm told.

Lucy tips the bottle and a single drop falls into my mouth.

It tastes like some kind of cinnamon liqueur, its warmth slides down my throat to heat my body. My ribs feel particularly hot.

I bite my lip as I feel one crack itself into place.

Then, all of a sudden, the glowing heat leaves me sitting in the snow, blinking astonishment.

The others are staring at me expectantly, "Well?" asks Susan.

"I-it's amazing!" I say as I move my arm around and even poke my side, "It doesn't hurt, they aren't broken anymore!" out of sheer impulsiveness, I pull up my sleeve to inspect my arm, the arm that had been peppered with shrapnel on the night of the bombing that now seemed years away. The scabs are gone and my skin is smooth and unbroken, "Wow..." I gasp.

The others are smiling now. Peter helps Lucy and me to our feet.

I realize I have lost my coat as Peter helps Lucy into hers.

I'm checking my sword when Peter gives me his coat, "But Peter, you'll freeze!" I protest.

He smiles, "You need it more than I do." He says, shivering.

I raise my eyebrows and smile back, "Oh Peter! Stop being an idiot. The coat is plenty big enough, we'll share it."

So one thing leads to another and Peter and I end up in the same coat, warm yes, but also hobbling around like some malformed animal. One of my arms is around his waist and one of his rests on my shoulders.

We're both starting to warm up, and for some reason, Peter's face is really red...

Mrs. Beaver is looking at the two of us with a strange look in her eyes, "Come along then children, Aslan will be waiting." She says.

Mr. Beaver has the same look on his fuzzy face, but he turns and walks into the forest. After a short distance he stops and points a tree, "I don't think you'll be needing those coats much longer."

All of us make our way over to the tree; it seems to be dripping with pink ice sickles...

Curious, I take one of the branches gently in my hand. The pink things aren't ice; they are small flower buds coming to life.

I gape in wonder as one of the blooms in my hand bursts open; a riot of color in an icy-cold world.

Peter's arm around me tightens softly.

I turn to him, smiling radiantly.

At first he seems at a loss, and then he smiles back...

**End of Chapter 23**

Aww, fluffy moment.

Thanks again to all of my reviewers! To everyone else: PLEASE REVIEW! Even if you don't like it, I want to know what you like or don't like!


	24. A Narnian Springtime

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 24**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn (Koinu-chan16)

**Author's Note: **Has been moved to the end of the chapter.

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

And so it is that we continue our journey to Aslan's camp.

Not long after the river, I realize that the world is slowly turning green. Soon after that, we find ourselves abandoning the coats and even the light sweaters we had been wearing back in England so long ago...

Everyone's spirits are lifted as we walk, "I say! Bluebells!" cries Lucy, gleefully.

"Look! The vine! You can see it growing!" says an amazed Susan.

"Lizzie, look! It's an eagle! No, wait, there are two." Peter points into the air.

I look up at them, they are circling, diving, and free falling, talons entwined, "What are they doing?" I ask.

Mrs. Beaver looks up, "Oh my!" she gasps, "Look away children!"

Mr. Beaver chuckles, "It _is_ spring." He says, wiggling his eyebrows mock-suggestively at Mrs. Beaver.

Mrs. Beaver snorts, "You had your chance; you had the whole bloody winter! We're on a mission now." She walks away imperiously, "Come along children."

Half amused and half stunned, we follow her.

The life in the air has affected me too; I feel a fire inside me that wasn't there before... I look down at my hands and wonder, "Can I do it again?"

Again, I feel the strange shift in my body, except this time it happens effortlessly and in an instant. In no time at all I'm bounding through the grass around the others, laughing and growling playfully.

Susan stares at me in amazement while the others laugh at my antics.

I stop, "Climb on Lucy!" I say.

Peter helps Lucy on to my back and immediately I take off, leaping through the underbrush. Lucy squeals and then laughs happily as I suddenly turn and charge back to the others and, just as quickly, whirl around and run ahead into a lovely, grassy meadow.

Lucy slides off of my back and I flop down on the ground, panting softly.

"Lizzie?" asks Lucy.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you change before? Why didn't you tell us you could, you know, back in England?"

I roll onto my back and dangle my paws in the air, "I didn't know what I am." I watch my golden paws change to human hands against the blue sky, "I don't think I could back there, in England, even now if we went back." I roll onto my stomach to look at Lucy, "I think it has something to do with this place. Ever since we came here I feel... I don't know how to describe it..."

Lucy is playing with a handful of grass, "Stronger? Older? Able to do anything, that's how I feel."

I nod and then sit up as I hear my name called.

Peter, Susan, and the Beavers emerge from the trees.

Lucy sits up and yells playfully at them, "Where have you been? We've been waiting forever!"

Peter laughs, "Are you calling us slowpokes?"

I stand and smile at him, "And what if we are? What are you going to do about it?"

Peter turns red and opens his mouth to say something but he is interrupted by a deep, trumpeting sound.

We all look around, confused. Where is the noise coming from?

"Look!" says Mr. Beaver, pointing at an outcropping of rock.

We look.

At first it looks like a rider on a bright chestnut horse, but then I realize that man and beast are one, "Its a-a-a centaur!" I gasp remembering mythology lessons from my Grandfather.

"Oh, thank the Lion!" sighs Mrs. Beaver, "We're here!"

From behind the rock we see a group of centaurs and beasts, and even a great white unicorn, come charging towards us.

The centaurs draw their weapons...

**End of Chapter 24**

Incase any of you were confused, the eagles were... uhh... procreating...

Thanks for reading! Please review!

Good Girl'z Dead: Wow! Thanks for the review and your opinion! Get some sleep! Oh, about the looks on the Beavers' faces, well I don't want to reveal too much, but perhaps they see something that certain other people are too oblivious to notice. And concerning Lizzie's transformation and the lack of questions; all will be told in time. I can't reveal everything right away now can I? My excuse for them not asking questions is that they're in a hurry to get to Aslan and to get away from the witch. :P Many, many thanks again for reviewing!

nascar-freak: lol, it was fun writing that part! Peter is just too nice for his own good... Thank you so much for reviewing!

DragonObsessed: Thanks! It was awfully fluffy wasn't it?


	25. The Centaur and the Unicorn

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 25**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

"What are they doing?!" screams Susan in alarm.

Peter's hand goes to his sword and I go down on all fours in front of Lucy, snarling savagely.

"No!" cries Mrs. Beaver as Mr. Beaver steps forward.

The war party reaches us and swiftly surrounds our small group.

Peter's sword is drawn.

Susan has an arrow on the string.

Lucy's small dagger is out.

I arch my back like a house cat and growl a warning; we are ready to fight should it come to that.

A female centaur with a midnight black horse's body and hair holds the tip of a huge broadsword against Mr. Beaver's neck. Her skin is very tanned and she has several silver rings through her ears. Her hair is up in an arranged tangle of braids at the back of her head with tails that cascade down her back.

She speaks, "You, Beaver! What are these beings you bring to Aslan's camp?"

Mr. Beaver sighs, "That's what I've been tryin' to tell ya! These are the children of Adam and Eve! Humans! And the Lioness has come with them from the lands beyond the Lantern Waste!"

The centaur woman's mouth drops open and she, trembling, sheathes her sword. The leopard in front of me sits down rather ungracefully. The hounds all yelp in surprise and leap backwards. The four other centaurs back off quickly.

The unicorn steps forward and bows his beautiful head. From a distance he looked white, but now as I see him up close, he has gold spiraling through his horn and hooves. His mane and tail are graced with white, red, and gold hair.

"Please forgive us, your Majesties, my Lady. We were ignorant to your identity. We merely wished to defend the camp." He says.

Only now does my group stand down; weapons are sheathed and I revert back to my normal form (drawing gasps from the Narnians).

"It's alright, I understand, um, we've just come to speak to Aslan." says Peter.

The unicorn bows his head again, "My name is Blaize, and if you would allow it my King, it would be my honor to escort you to the camp."

"That would be wonderful!" cries Lucy.

Blaize beams with pride.

The female centaur, now recovered from her shock, places her hand over her heart and lowers her head, "It has been an honor and a pleasure your Majesties, my Lady. And thank you for coming." She signals to the others and they are gone as quickly as they came, leaving me and the others with Blaize.

"Come, the camp is this way." says Blaize, but then he takes a closer look at our weary faces, "Would the ladies wish to ride?"

Lucy's eyes widen, Susan says, "Oh no! We couldn't!"

"Not on you! You're too...too...too..." falters Lucy.

"Noble." I whisper.

Blaize cracks up in a rather horsey laugh, "It will be no problem, in fact, it will be an honor." he says, kneeling.

Susan mounts clumsily as Peter and I help Lucy up. I step back.

"Not you my Lady?" asks Blaize.

"Wouldn't I be too much?" I ask.

Blaize laughs again, "Not at all, my lady; I am no common horse. Mount if you wish."

I sigh, "It would feel good to get off my feet." I say.

Peter takes my hand gently and helps me up.

On the ride, the Beavers, Peter, and Blaize discuss the army, Narnia, and Aslan.

For me, most of it goes in one ear and out the other; now off my feet, I realize how tired I am and I immediately fall into a dazed stupor.

I do notice when Blaize starts up a hill. Then, as he crests the hill, I come fully awake as I stare at the sight in front of me; before us is spread a deep ravine, all full of red and gold tents. Beyond that are several hills and shining in the distance is a ribbon of silver.

The sea...

Blaize continues down the hill and halts at the edge of the camp, "I regret to announce; this is where I must leave you. You will find the tent of Aslan if you keep going straight. Farewell."

Peter lifts Lucy from Blaize's back and Susan slides off.

I lift a leg over Blaize's back and prepare to slide off, but suddenly the ground seems so far away...

Peter catches my waist as I fall. I land on unsteady feet and I have to grab Peter's arm to keep from falling all the way into the soft grass.

"Lizzie? Are you alright?" asks Peter, concerned.

"Yes, just a little..." I look up into Peter's eyes and feel a sudden warmth as my face flushes, "...unsteady." I breathe.

He smiles and nods, "It's been a long day."

"And it's not over yet." I say.

Blaize is gone. The Beaver's turn to us, "Well, let's go." says Mr. Beaver.

"This is it." whispers Susan.

**End of Chapter 25**

Yay! We're about to meet Aslan! Thanks for reading and please review!

nascar-freak: Wow... you have no idea what it means to me to have someone say that... You just made my day! Thank you!

musafa: lol, Thank you! I can't wait either. :)

StarsOfMystery: Lol, I think you'll find that I love writing cliffies... Thank you, I love this story too!

DragonObsessed: Like I've said before, I'm a cliffie addict... Thank you and here is your update!

Good Girl'z Dead: Well, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my reviewers; I'm still writing this story because of you guys. I respect and love you all (not in a freaky way, lol). Yes, as you can see some questions have started being answered, but unfortunately I think there will only be more questions before I can give you all the answers! And as far as the eagles go, I made that comment at the end for people who are as oblivious as I can be sometimes. :P Thanks again!!


	26. Children of Eve

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 26**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

We enter the camp and are suddenly surrounded by noise and activity. Everywhere I look there are centaurs, fauns, and satyrs; naiads and dryads; and every manner of speaking animal imaginable.

As we walk down the main road between the tents, heads turn and jaws drop, and we begin to develop a following.

Susan smiles nervously and speaks through her teeth, "Why are they all staring at us?"

Lucy giggles, "Maybe they think you look funny."

(Oreius' point of view)

I know I will never forget the first time I saw the children of Eve, not even when the hair of my tail has gone white and my eyes are blind to the stars.

The first one I notice is just a colt and he is the tallest of the four. He has windswept flaxen hair and pale skin. He is tall and thin, but his shoulders are broad and his arms, strong. His eyes are the color of ice and in them I see calm determination and the desire to protect.

Beside him walks a filly, a Daughter of Eve, with a mane of golden hair. She is only a little shorter than the colt and her green eyes flash with the same fierce loyalty and determination I see in his.

On the other side of the Son of Adam is another, shorter filly with ebon hair and ivory skin. Her eye's are a darker, sea blue and in her face is a gentle kindness overshadowed with motherly worry.

The last of them is just a tiny foal, but her spirit shines brightly in her smile. She has short, dark hair and dark eyes that sparkle with love and childlike faith.

Even the oldest of them is still a foal, but there is an air of nobility about them...

(Lizzie's point of view)

We come to a stop at the end of the road, behind us is the entire camp, before us, on a small rise, is a tent larger and more decorated than all of the others.

Beside the tent is a male centaur with a jet black body and hair, he is bigger than any other centaur we have seen so far. He glares down at us all from the hill as if he is trying to see into our hearts.

Peter raises his sword in a clumsy salute, "We have come to see Aslan."

Silently, the centaur looks from Peter to the tent. We hear a noise behind us and I glance back; the entire army is kneeling.

Gulping, I do likewise and the others follow suit, Peter kneels with his sword before him.

We all look up at the tent.

There is silence.

Then, as if on cue, a breeze lifts the tent flap and out steps a huge, velveted, feline paw followed by a magnificent golden body, graced with a thick, flowing mane.

I gasp; a lion! Aslan is a lion!

I look up at his face, his beautiful, wonderful, terrible face, and find that I can't. I catch a glimpse of deep amber eyes, deep and solemn, but full of love. I am overcome with emotion and wonder as I look away, breathless.

Then he speaks; he speaks with a low, musical voice, "Welcome Peter, Son of Adam. Welcome Elizabeth, Susan, and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. And Welcome to you He-Beaver and She-Beaver, but where is the fifth?"

Nervous, we stand. The others are silent, so I speak first, "T-there was some, uh, trouble along the way."

Peter sheathes his sword, "It's Edmund; he's our brother, sir. He's been captured."

Aslan's beautiful face frowns in concern, "Captured? How did this happen?"

My gaze falls to the ground.

Susan stammers, "Um, well, sir, uh, well he..."

Mr. Beaver cuts in, "He... well he betrayed them sir."

The centaur to the side stamps his foot and snorts viciously, "Then he has betrayed us all!"

"Peace Oreius!" Aslan growls softly.

"It was my fault really, I was too hard on him." says Peter.

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder as Susan says meekly, "We all were."

"This is grave news indeed and it will not easily be undone." says Aslan, and in that moment his face and his loving eyes are filled with a lonely sadness great enough to break my heart a thousand times over.

"But he's our brother sir." whispers Lucy.

"I know, Dear One, but that only makes the betrayal all the worse." He says in a low voice, his eyes still filled with that crushing sadness.

But in the next moment, the sadness is quite gone. Aslan claps his paws together and three dryads, two naiads, and a female centaur step forward on Aslan's left.

To his right, a huge black centaur with the body of a shire horse and human parts that are dark and heavily muscled, and a smaller strawberry roan with dark reddish hair down to his waist, step forward.

"I am sure you are weary and ready to sleep where you stand," says Aslan, "But there is still much to be done this day for the sun is still high in the sky. Go, wash away the dirt of travel and clothe yourself in more comfortable attire. These," here he tilts his head toward those creatures who had stepped forward, "shall be your attendants, they will help you."

We all nod, slightly overwhelmed.

Aslan smiles; a warm smile, like the sun in spring, "Go then, Children of Adam and Eve, wash and dress, then we will eat."

As our attendants lead us away, I realize how really hungry I am. None of us have eaten since that night at the Beaver's house. We (except the beavers) are taken to a cluster of three very large tents, all made of a radiant, shining, red and gold material.

The two male centaurs lead a bewildered looking Peter into one of the tents, and the three Dryads and one of the Naiads lead Susan and Lucy into another.

"My Lady?" asks the female centaur. She is very small for a centaur (only pony sized) and she has a light, golden palomino horse body, with pure white hair and tail. Her almond-shaped yellow eyes are looking at me expectantly. I realize she is talking to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

She smiles, "I would just like to say that it is my greatest honor to be your attendant, My Lady."

I smile nervously back, "Um, Thank you. I think... And my name is Elizabeth, but you can call me Lizzie."

Her smile brightens and she nods her head, "Aurora." She says.

The second Naiad (well woman) emerges from the last tent with a bundle of cloth in her arms. She curtsies and says in a voice that reminds me of cool streams whispering on their way to the sea, "I am Miralaine, My Lady."

Miralaine's skin is very white with a strange, bluish cast to it. Her hair is black with shimmering hints of blue and green, and is messily braided and coiled with seaweed and small shells. She is not as slim as the tree women, as a matter of fact, she is rather curvaceous. The dress she wears is clingy and reminds me of fish nets, while her jewelry is made of thin ropes adorned with sea shells.

Her eyes, though, are her most in intriguing feature. They are slightly larger than human eyes and at first seem to be dark blue, but as she moves and the sun hits them, they turn from blue, to green, to black, to grey, and back again to a lighter blue. In the bright sunlight, her pupils are slits like a cat's.

Miralaine nods at the things in her arms (I notice she has pointed ears) and says, "We will take you to the river, My Lady, there you can bathe and dress."

And so I make my way to a secluded spot near the river, undress and bathe. Aurora takes my old clothes away while Miralaine helps me out of the water and into a dress.

Upon first seeing the dress, I groan inwardly; any dress that beautiful back in England is painful to wear; uncomfortable, stiff, and itchy.

But as Miralaine pulls the fabric of the cream colored under shift over my head, I'm startled by its softness. Then comes the dusky purple over dress, the fabric of which is as soft as the under piece.

The purple part of the dress is low cut and has no sleeves as well as lacing up the front of the bodice, which allows the creamy fabric of the under piece (which is not low cut) to be seen in the front through the silver lacings, as well as the long, bell-like medieval sleeves. And lastly, I notice that the purple is decorated with delicate silver embroidery at the hem.

As I'm dressing, Aurora returns with Susan and Lucy and their attendants. The girls both wash and dress as Aurora pulls my hair back in a complicated braid, decorated with small, purple flowers.

Two of the Dryads dress Susan in dark green and a light brown shift, and twist her hair with ivy.

The remaining Dryad and the other Naiad clothe Lucy in light blue and white trimmed in silver. Her hair is done with light green strands of moss and icy blue flowers.

Afterwards all of the attendants leave to go see to dinner. Lucy, Susan, and I are left by the cool water.

I sigh in content as I sit on a rock and dangle my bare feet in the water.

Susan is lying down in the grass staring up through the leaves of the trees at the sky as Lucy hikes up her skirt and swirls her feet through the water.

Lucy looks up at me, "These dresses are lovely." She says.

I chuckle, "And comfortable."

Lucy looks over at the silent Susan, "You look like Mum."

Susan sits up and murmurs, "Mum hasn't had a dress like this since before the war."

Lucy looks down sadly.

I smile, "We should take her back one."

Lucy suddenly brightens, "A whole trunk full!" she says, excited.

"If we ever get back." says Susan dismally.

Lucy's smile falls.

I raise my eyebrows, "That's being a little pessimistic, now, isn't it?"

A small smile forms on Susan's lips, "Oh, I'm sorry I'm like that." She looks at Lucy and I, "We used to have fun together didn't we?"

I smile, "Yeah."

Lucy smirks, "Before you got boring!"

Now Susan's eyebrows lift, "Oh really?"

She bends down, scoops up some water in her hands, and, before I can react, showers Lucy and I with water.

I'm so surprised that I fall off of the rock into the shallow water. The other two laugh at me, but I swiftly change and, using my large paws to my advantage, drench the sisters.

And so things go on like this for a few minutes, with squeals, giggles, and (from Lucy) evil laughs.

Eventually, we all emerge from the river, soaked to the skin, but happy.

Susan moves to pull a towel off of a tree branch and out of the forest behind the towel materializes the snarling face of Maugrim.

Susan gives a little scream and backs up to where Lucy and I are standing.

Maugrim steps forward and growls as two other wolves appear, "Please don't try to run. We're tired and would prefer to kill you quickly."

I go down on my paws between the girls and the wolves, "I'd like to see you try!" I hiss.

Maugrim laughs, a horrible, throaty laugh that bares all of his teeth.

I may be a lioness but the wolf leader is almost as large as I am, and his companions are only a little smaller.

Three of them against one of me...

**End of Chapter 26**

Haha! Another cliffie! I'm evil... Sorry, this took longer than normal. The next chapters might take a while too; it's the end of my college semester so I have a lot of finals to prepare for!

Good Girl'z Dead: Aww, I hope you get better! And that's a very good theory about Lizzie, and they're all really tired, they haven't really slept since back in England! Thank you SO much for your reviews!

myvoicerising: Oh. Wow. I could die of happiness right now. Really. This is exactly what I need; critiquing. I understand what you mean about skimping on detail (now that I've gone back and reread it) I think I will be editing some of the earlier chapters in the near future... Thanks so very, very much for your help, and I don't mind long reviews. ;)

DragonObsessed: I've updated! Lol! Thank you for your reviews, but I can't make them kiss just yet; it's too soon! I want to keep my readers drooling and waiting for more... I'm so evil...

nascar-freak: Aye, it's _just_ starting. Well, I've introduced Aslan, did you like it? Thanks for your review!

brezzybrez: Many thanks for your reviews! I made this chappie longer, did you like it? I combined two chapters and added in the bit with Oreius as an afterthought. Does it work? Thank you again!

ScarletRosePetal: Wow, thanks so much for reading and reviewing:) Squee! (dies of happiness)

iceprincess: Ack! (checks her pants for lead) Thanks for the review and here is your update!


	27. Knighted

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 27**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn (Koinu-chan16)

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

(Peter's POV)

After washing and dressing (in a soft blue tunic under a leather jerkin) I emerge from my tent to find Aslan waiting for me.

"Come, Son of Adam, there is something I wish to show you."

Aslan leads me to the top of a hill overlooking the gorge.

I can't help but gape in wonder at what I see. Below me, in the gorge, is spread the whole of Aslan's camp. A little north of the camp is a silver snake, the Great River, darting in and out of the trees to end finally, far to the east, in the glittering Eastern Ocean.

And at the very edge of the horizon, where the Earth touches the sky, there rests a star.

But I squint my eyes and realize that the star is really a palace on a cliff overlooking the water; all of its windows alight with the red flame of the setting sun behind me.

"That," says Aslan, "is Cair Paravel, the castle of The Four Thrones, one of which you will sit in as king. I show it to you because you are the firstborn and you will be High King over all the rest."

I fiddle with the pommel of my sword nervously. He wants _me_, Peter Pevensie, to be a king?

Aslan gives me a sidelong glance, "You doubt the prophecies?"

"No, but that's just it," I chew my lip, "Aslan, I'm not who you think I am!"

Aslan directs his cool gaze back at Cair Paravel, "Peter Pevensie, formerly of Finchley." He raises his eyebrows at me and smiles, "Beaver also mentioned you planned on turning him into a hat."

I can't help but smile.

But Aslan can see the feelings I try to hide, "You've brought you family safely this far..." he says.

I clench my fists helplessly as I beat myself inside, "But not all of them."

Aslan sighs as he gazes into the distance, "Peter, there is a deep magic that governs all our destinies; yours and Elizabeth's; your brother and sisters'," his gaze falls sadly to the ground, "Even mine." He looks back up at me, "I will do what I can for your brother-"

Aslan is interrupted by a strange noise, something like the sound of a bugle, but richer.

I'm confused for a moment, but Aslan says in a low voice, almost a purr (if it is not disrespectful to think of a lion purring), "Your sister's horn."

"No!" I exclaim as I take off for the river.

But is on the other side of the camp...

I get a sick, nervous feeling in my stomach; will I reach the girls in time?

(Lizzie's POV)

Once Susan had blown the horn, she had followed Lucy up a tree while I kept the wolves at bay.

I had given the girls some time by leaping unexpectedly at the wolves with a deafening, screaming howl of rage that had caught the wolves off guard, but had earned me a nasty bite on my shoulder.

Now I'm backed up to the trunk of the tree and surrounded by wolves.

Then, I hear splashing and the thundering of paws, feet, and hooves.

I hear the clear ring of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

I hear someone yelling my name.

I look up to see Peter running toward me, sword drawn, followed by Aslan, Oreius, and several other members of the army.

The look on Peter's face both frightens me and causes my heart to thunder, there is fear, yes, but there is also a mature resolution; a resolution to protect us, no matter the cost.

Maugrim and one of the other wolves leap for Peter. Aslan pounces on the smaller one, pinning him, but not killing him.

As this is happening, I suddenly feel crushing splinters of pain in my knee; the last wolf has snuck up on me.

Screaming, I turn on him, claws out, but he lets my leg go and swiftly dodges my flying paws.

He lunges again, this time for my neck, but I'm ready. Instead of dodging him or jumping towards him, I rear up on my back paws, catching his head in my front paws. I wrap my front legs tightly around the wolf's head and shoulders, digging my claws into his back and pinning his head against my chest.

He struggles wildly with his forelegs.

The two of us go down howling and screaming and rolling in the dust, as I reach down and bite the scruff of his neck, clenching my jaws closed as tightly as I can.

His snapping jaws wriggle free of my grip and lock on to my already injured shoulder, sending fresh claws of pain tearing through my neck and shoulder.

I'm running out of strength, I have to end it now or I will die.

I draw my hind legs up to my stomach (between my body and the wolf's) and kick outward at the wolf's stomach as hard and as fast as I can, over and over again, all claws extended.

At first, all my claws meet is fur, then skin, then even that is gone.

The wolf has stopped struggling; its grip on my shoulder is loosened.

It is dead.

My battle is finished just in time for me to see Peter go down under Maugrim's onslaught.

"No!" I scream in horror. And I'm not the only one, Lucy and Susan are screaming as they try to scramble down from the tree.

I'm still for a moment as I stare at Peter, buried beneath the body of Maugrim.

I wait for Peter to sit up, still alive, but he doesn't.

"Get up!" I think franticly, "Get up!" but nothing happens.

Unable to stand it any longer, I limp over to him, closely followed by the girls. Together, we shove the dead thing off of him, afraid of what we might find underneath.

Breathing heavily and looking very pale, Peter sits up.

All three of us fall on him with hugs and tears and, from Susan and Lucy, kisses.

When we draw apart, Aslan lifts his paw off of the wolf he had trapped, "After him!" he says to the beasts of the army, "He will lead you to Edmund."

With a flurry of paws and hooves, the good creatures disappear after the fleeing wolf.

Sitting there in the grass and sudden silence, I look around. The ground is covered in gore and both Peter and I are splattered with blood.

It suddenly hits me with gale force, the realization of what has just happened.

I feel all cold and shaky and I have the urge to throw up, but I bite back the bile and force it down.

Beside me, Peter looks as though he feels the same, but he looks older and, somehow, more mature.

Aslan pads silently over to us. I look at him, the sight of him, his warmth and his smell calms me. I can feel lion-strength going into me. I look over at Peter; he looks much the same.

Then, Aslan says gently (and a little sternly) to Peter, "You have forgotten to clean your sword."

Peter blushes slightly and sets to work cleaning his blade while Lucy gives me another drop of cordial.

I get the strange feeling that something very important is about to happen...

Once Peter's sword is clean and I am healed, Aslan says, "Kneel Peter and Elizabeth, Son and Daughter of Adam and Eve."

A little nervous and very excited, we both do as he asks.

Aslan speaks solemnly, "Do you both swear to protect and to serve those who are smaller and weaker than yourself and to live in a way that honors Narnia and its people?"

"I do, Aslan."

"Yes, Aslan."

He places a paw on Peter's shoulder and touches his forehead with his tongue (a lion's kiss), "Rise up, Sir Peter Wolfs-bane, Knight of Narnia."

Aslan moves over to me and places the same heavy paw on my shoulder. He breathes on me and kisses my forehead. I feel myself filled with his golden love and strength.

"Rise up, Lady Elizabeth the Lioness, Lady Knight and Protectoress of Narnia."

I stand, feeling the last threads of my life in that other place, England, be cast away. I also feel a great burden, a responsibility, resting intangibly on my shoulders.

Strangely, I am happier for it...

Aslan speaks again, to both of us, "Remember your vows. Remember your promise of chivalry. And," here he smiles a little, "whatever happens, never forget to wipe your sword."

**End of Chapter 27**

As always, Thanks for reading! Please Review! And Happy Fic-Reading!

Good Girl'z Dead: Thank you so much for your reviews! I love 'em and look forward to reading them! I had fun with the part when Oreius describes the kids :P And I really like making up fantasy creatures and describing them. Thanks Again!

nascar-freak: Thanks very much for the review and the well-wishing! I think I did well on my finals, I don't know yet though...

ScarletRosePetal: Thank you, and I hope you liked the update!

musafa: Thank you! Heh heh, they both get to be knights-in-shining-armor! Did you like it?

DragonObsessed: Aye, I highly dislike finals... Grrrr! I'm making you wait for the kiss because waiting will just make it that much more awesome when it happens! And I'm evil... Many Thank You's again!


	28. A Dream and A Lullaby

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 28**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

Aslan nods graciously to both of us before turning and walking regally back to camp.

I stare at him, breathless and with a smile on my lips. I feel a little stunned as I run the events of the past few minutes through my head.

Lady Knight...

My smile grows and I look over at Peter only to find that he is already smiling at me. My heart skips a beat and my first instinct is to look away, but I am held captive by his ice blue eyes...

I had never before noticed how deep and full of expression his eyes were, and what I see in them now makes my heart thunder wildly in my chest.

Before I have any time to think about the feelings racing through my veins, we are nearly body slammed by Susan and Lucy. The two of them glomp on Peter and I; Susan with tears in her eyes and Lucy with a giant grin on her face. They pull the two of us into a big group hug.

Suddenly I find myself pressed between Susan and Peter.

At that moment I am very glad that Peter cannot see my face as I feel the color rise in my cheeks.

The warmth of his body beside mine inspires the same heart-pounding feelings I had felt only a moment ago. As we are squeezed together more tightly by the girls, I feel a giddy light-headedness and my legs get that numb and trembling feeling.

I am extremely relieved as the girls draw apart and Lucy takes both Peter and I by the hand to lead us back to camp.

On the way, we are met by our attendants. Miralaine and Aurora lead me back to my tent, where they provide me with water to wash up and new dress. This one is a delicate grey and royal blue.

After that, we are led to a table where a small feast is laid out.

We dine there with ou attendants, Oreius, Blaize, and Ophelia; the female centaur we had met on the way into camp, she is Oreius' sister.

Part of the way through dinner, Aurora and Riordan (the redheaded centaur from before) leave silently. They return a few minutes later, led by Aslan. Both of them are carrying flags of some sort.

Aslan speaks, "Elizabeth, Peter. As a sign of your knighthood, a symbol of your courage and in remembrance of the deeds performed this day, I present you with these."

For the first time, I get a good look at the banners.

Aslan nods to the banner on his right, "This is yours, Peter," then to the one on his left, "and this is yours, Elizabeth."

Peters banner is a blood red lion rampant under a golden crown on a white field.

Mine is a bright golden lioness rampant on a green field, crowned by four silver stars.

"These are your standards; they carry your heraldic colors." says Aslan, "Bear them well."

(Later, as we are finishing dinner)

Night has fallen and the meal has long been over. Lucy's head is on the table and she is snoring softly. Peter and the others are talking quietly about battles and weapons, but I'm really not even listening; I'm far too tired.

My face is resting in my hand and I'm staring down at my plate, but not really seeing it as my mind is wandering aimlessly.

I'm thinking about everything that has happened in the last two days and how it had all started with an innocent game of hide-and-seek.

Then there had been the wardrobe...

Dreams...

Snow...

Ice Queen...

Prophecies...

Lioness...

Aslan...

Images of the past days fly through my head like a movie on fast forward until my minds' eye comes to rest on our new banners. Ophelia had explained earlier in the evening, the significance of the symbols and the colors on them.

The lioness on my standard, besides stating the obvious, also shows that I am the feminine embodiment of fierce courage. While the lion on Peters shows the same thing, only in a masculine sense, as well as representing the fact that he is a great warrior and the High King.

The white field (background) of Peter's standard symbolizes peace and sincerity while at the same time; the red of the rampant lion shows a warriors heart and the magnanimity of a king.

The field of my standard is green, a color that shows my capacity for hope, my joy, and (I had blushed a little when Ophelia had said this) my loyalty in life and in love.

The four stars above the lioness head symbolize a divine quality, as well as showing a representation of the four sovereigns of Narnia whom the rampant lioness is defending.

As I drift deeper into sleep and dreaming, I watch as the rampant lion turns his head to look at me, he then steps down off the flag and in doing so, becomes a man. He stops to gaze lovingly up at the lioness.

When his eyes rest on her, the lioness comes to life as well, melting silently into a woman.

The man raises his hand and the woman takes it, allowing him to help her down. Then the two figures stand, facing each other with their hands clasped together.

I try to see who they are, but the flames of a setting sun behind them blinds me. I can only tell that they are smiling at each other with expressions of pure love and belonging.

Then, something goes horribly wrong. The sun sets, casting an unnatural darkness over the world. As this happens, the woman's knees buckle and she falls; her happy expression turns to one of pain and fear,

A look of horror dominates the man's face as he catches her and lowers her gently to the ground; they are both covered in blood.

As I watch, the woman's eyes cloud over as she dies. Tears stream down the man's face and I watch his lips move, but no sound comes out.

I look back at the woman and my heart nearly stops as I suddenly recognize her; she is me...

Glancing at the man, I gasp as I realize that he is Peter.

My legs weaken as I watch Peter lift his face to the heavens and his mouth opens to cry out. The dream's silence is broken by his heart-wrenching, pain filled, unearthly cry.

I fall to my hands and knees, unable to breathe, as the sound tears me apart inside.

Then, suddenly I am ripped out of the dream world as I jerk awake.

There is a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look up at Susan, still blinking in shock and bewilderment.

Susan is looking down at me with an inquisitive look on her face.

I shake my head to try to clear it and I manage to utter, "What?"

She smiles a little, "We're going to bed, silly."

I look around; everyone else is gone except for Peter who is standing next to Susan and carrying a sleeping Lucy. He is smiling at me and I stare back as the image of him screaming in heart felt agony flashes before my eyes.

I shake my head again and try to swallow, but my throat is dry, making my voice raspy, "Okay..." I manage to croak.

Peter's brow furrows, "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I nod, "Yeah, I just...I just need sleep." I lie.

The three of us walk to our tents and I follow the older Pevensies into Susan and Lucy's tent.

Susan curls up on one of the small couches and Peter lays Lucy gently down on the other one.

"Goodnight." He whispers.

I kneel next to her and look down at her peaceful face. I smile a little as I think that it was Lucy's face and her big heart that had started this mad adventure, but, despite all the bad that has happened, I'm glad she chose that wardrobe to hide in.

I brush a few strands of hair out her face, "Thank you." I whisper so no one else can hear.

As I stand and turn to leave, something catches my hand.

I turn back to see Lucy looking up at me, still half asleep.

"Sing me a goodnight song Mum..." she says in a small voice.

Not quite sure what to do, I turn to her siblings. Peter is standing at the entrance to the tent. There is a weary sadness in his eyes.

"Oh, Lucy..." whispers Susan, who is about to get up, but I wave my hand gently, motioning for her to lie back down.

I sit down on the edge of Lucy's couch as lost memory comes to mind...

Long ago, another little girl grabbing her father's hand, "Sing me a goodnight song Daddy..."

A tired but loving smile, then a smooth baritone voice singing softly...

I stare into the distance, into the fog of memory; my lips form the words and my voice follows with the melody:

_Lay down  
Your sweet and weary head  
Night is falling  
You have come to journey's end_

_Sleep now  
And dream of the ones who came before  
They are calling  
From across a distant shore_

_Why do you weep?  
What are these tears upon your face?  
Soon you will see  
All of your fears will pass away_

_Safe in my arms  
You're only sleeping_

_What can you see  
On the horizon?  
Why do the bright stars fall?_

_Across the sea  
A red sun rises  
The King has come to carry you home_

_And all will turn to silver glass  
No light on the water  
All Souls pass..._

_Hope fades  
Into the world of night  
Through shadows falling  
Out of memory and time_

_Don't say  
We have come now to the end  
White shores are calling  
You and I will meet again_

_And you'll be here in my arms  
Just sleeping..._

_What can you see  
On the horizon?  
Why do the bright stars fall?_

_Across the sea  
A red sun rises  
The King has come to carry you home_

_And all will turn  
To silver glass  
No light on the water  
All Souls pass_

_Into the West..._

As the last, haunting note fades into the night, it takes the brief memory with it, leaving me feeling a terrible sense of aloneness.

Lucy is asleep now.

Susan is curled up under her blankets.

Peters face is unreadable as he holds open the tent flap for me. I nod a thank you to him before walking to my tent.

"Lizzie?" its Peter.

"Yes?" I turn around quickly, maybe a little too quickly; Peters face is only inches from my own and his eyes are wide in surprise.

"Oh, um, I-I just wanted to, um..." he stutters, "I just wanted to... say... that... I..." he trails off.

I am very aware of my close proximity to him. My heart is slamming against the inside of my ribs and I notice my breathing quicken involuntarily, "Yes?" I whisper again, feeling my voice tremble.

Peter seems a little flustered as he blinks and says, "I, um, goodnight."

Part of me feels disappointed but the rest of me mentally kicks that part and I tell myself, "Well what did you want him to say? Silly girl..."

I take a few steps back and say, "Goodnight."

When I turn to go into my tent, I hear, "And Lizzie?"

I turn back to Peter and he is smiling a little now, "Sleep well."

Despite my looming fears, I can't help but smile back, "You too."

Then, he goes into his tent and I go into mine. The warm and happy feeling follows me to bed, but as sleep creeps in, so too does the dark feeling and the memory of the agony...

**End of Chapter 28**

OMG! I updated! Ummm... yeah... I'm kinda going through a phase where I hate everything I write: GRRR!

I would write replies to all of your reviews, but let's not stall the update! So, thank you all so much for reviewing! I love you all! I haven't forgotten you!

Oh, and the song is Into the West by Annie Lennox (from The Return of the King) and I do not own it, but I changed a few of the lyrics to fit Narnia and The Last Battle.


	29. A Need for Answers

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 29**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

It's the same dream as before.

Peter is holding my dead body and wailing.

I want to run over to him.

To stop him.

To stop his tears.

I want to hold him and tell him that I'm alright; I'm still here.

I'm still alive.

But I can't move.

I can't force my feet to move, it's as though they've been nailed to the ground.

Unable to move, I call to him, "Peter! I'm not dead! Peter, look at me; I'm alright, I'm okay!" I scream, "That's not me! Look, I'm here!"

But he can't see or hear me. His cries are getting more desperate and are growing in intensity.

Then, I hear other voices; voices of people I know.

Voices of people I love.

The darkness around Peter and I is dissipating and drawing back to reveal a battlefield strewn with corpses.

Lucy, Susan, and Edmund are there too, alive and crying.

Crying for me.

"No!" I scream as I fall, trembling, to my knees, "I'm alive..." I whisper, but the horrible sounds continue. I can hear mum's voice, and grandpa's.

Around us the battlefield is being consumed by raging flames.

I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and I grab my ears as the keening sounds reach an unbearable level.

"No," I whimper, "please." I plead, "Make it stop."

And it stops.

Afraid of what I might find, I slowly open my eyes, but I see nothing. I am surrounded by encompassing, black, life-sucking darkness.

I stand up warily; although it may seem as though I am alone, I'm not. I can feel something; someone.

Someone sinister.

From behind me, I hear the distinctive, clear ring of a blade pulled free of its sheath.

I whirl around to see a woman.

She is not like any woman I've seen before; at least, not any human woman. She is taller than any real woman has a right to be and her skin is a milky, pale, translucent white. Her features are cruel and proud, like a queen.

A false queen.

Even though I have never seen her before, I know her name, "Jadis." I whisper.

She sneers at me with pure, unadulterated hatred just before plunging her blade into my chest.

I wake up, gasping for air.

I panic as I find myself still unable to move.

Franticly I struggle against the forces that bind me.

I manage to roll myself out of my hammock and I land with a thump on the floor of my tent.

Stunned, I lay there for a moment as realization sinks in; I'm alive, I'm awake, and I'm tangled hopelessly in my bed sheets.

"Oh God, what's happening to me?" I whisper as I bring my uncontrollably shaking hands to my face and start sobbing dejectedly.

What's wrong with me?

Why is this happening?

What's happening?

What does it mean?

I'm still on the floor of my tent, curled into the fetal position and crying my eyes out when I hear a noise behind me. "Lizzie! Lizzie! Wake up! It's Edmund! He's back!" laughs Lucy as she rushes into my tent, "Lizzie? Why are you...?"

I try to wipe the tears away, but nothing can hide my puffy eyes, soggy cheeks, and blotchy face; not to mention, I'm shaking like a leaf.

Susan is right behind Lucy, when she sees me, her smile dissolves and is replaced with fear and worry, "Lizzie, what's wrong?!"

"What's happened?!" asks Lucy.

There's alarm in Susan's voice as she calls out, "Peter!"

"No, it's not-" I try to stop her but I'm interrupted by Peter barging in.

"What's wrong Su? What's going... Lizzie?" his eyes widen and his expression turns to concern as he drops to his knees beside me, "Lizzie! Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?"

"It's nothing! I'm fine! It was just a bad dream!" I half yell, but I don't sound convincing, even to myself.

Peter's hand is resting on my arm, "But you're shaking..."

I'm angry now, mostly out of embarrassment, "I'm fine!" I yell as I finally extricate myself from my blankets. I just want to escape.

I bolt from my tent changing into a lioness as I do so. I dart into the camp; I just want to run and hide. I would never tell anyone this, but I'm afraid.

When I am clear of the tents and the camp I finally stop. I am at the base of a gentle hill and sitting at the top, watching the sunrise, is Aslan. Somehow, instinctively, my paws carried me to the place I needed to go without me knowing.

I need answers.

Aslan doesn't turn, even though he knows I'm there; he just continues to gaze at the horizon.

Then, I realize what had just happened; my friends had just been worried for me. They had been trying to help, but I pushed them away and ran from my problems.

Ashamed, I lower my head and slowly start up the hill. At the top I say, "Aslan? Is it alright if I... sit here for a while?"

He nods and turns his warm gaze on me; he is smiling knowingly, "You have questions." It was a statement, not a question.

If I had been human I would have flushed red, "That obvious, huh?"

His smile grows a little and there is a little rumble in his chest; almost a laugh, but he doesn't say anything.

I sit down beside him; he's huge, much larger than I am. I'm like a kitten next to a cat. We both look out at the sunrise and the clear blue sky tinged with pink. A cool breeze runs through my fur and I take a deep breath, letting it fill my chest and clear my head. "Aslan? Why am I...the way I am?"

"It is because you have Narnian blood in your veins." He says, "If you will remember, the Beavers mentioned the prophecy about the one with Narnian blood who will come with the Children of Adam and Eve."

"But how is that possible? I'm from _Finchley_!" I say.

He chuckles again, "Your Father was Narnian, but I don't think he knew it."

My eyes widen and I feel a lump in my throat, "Daddy? But...how?"

He looks at me, "Do you know the story of King Frank and Queen Helen; the first king and Queen of Narnia?"

I'm at a loss, "I think so...yes. But what does that...?"

"King Frank and Queen Helen had many children and those children married Narnians; the boys married Nymphs and the girls married wood-gods and river-gods. Their first son became the next King of Narnia and their second son became the King of Archenland to the south."

But that still didn't answer my question.

Aslan sighed, "Ever since Narnia was created, there has been a link between it and your world; there are many doors that go both ways, your grandfather's wardrobe was only one."

I thought about this for a moment, "You mean I'm a descendant of the first rulers of Narnia?"

He nodded.

"And one of my ancestors came through a door from Narnia into our world?"

He nodded again. "Your grandmother."

I vaguely realize that my mouth is hanging open; it was a lot of information to process. My grandmother? A Narnian? I hadn't known her well; she had died when I was very young. "Can you tell me about her?" I finally ask.

Aslan smiles as he scoops me up with his paw and gently licks my head, like a mother cat cleaning her kitten, "That is her story, not yours little one."

I close my eyes and enjoy the pleasant sensation. The next thing I know I hear a strange, vibrating rumble. My eyes fly open, it's coming from me! I'm purring! Once more content, I close my eyes and ask, "But why a lioness?"

Now finished, Aslan lays down and I curl up next to him, "There is no why, it is just a part of who you are."

After a while he gets up and says quietly, almost a little sadly, "Edmund will be waking up soon. You should go back and get some breakfast little one."

I nod as I stand, "Thank you, Aslan."

He touches his tongue to my forehead before we both turn and go our separate ways back to camp.

**End of Chapter 29**

Whew, another chappie! Does that answer some of your questions? Do you have other questions? What did you think? I won't know what you think unless you tell me.

brezzybrez: Thanks, I hope you liked the update!

ScarletRosePetal: Ack! Stalker! Lol, just kidding! Thank you so much for reviewing!

StarsOfMystery: Aww (hands you a Kleenex)... on second thought, take the box; you might need it later... Hehe, I like making Peter and Lizzie flustered. Sure, they're growing up and becoming more mature, but part of them is still in that awkward teenagery stage. Many, Many thank yous!

Irish Avalon: Ah, thanks for pointing that out! (goes back and fixes it) Thanks so much for your review and good luck on your finals!


	30. Lioness in Training

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 30**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

I reach our small cluster of tents just as Miralaine and two dryads are setting up a small table and cushions for us to eat breakfast. Another Naiad carries over trays of wondrous smelling food.

I melt back into a human just as I spot Peter; he looks deep in thought. I watch him for a moment. His brow is furrowed and I smile at the way he lightly chews at his lower lip; his perfect, full, pink lip...

Appalled, I mentally slap myself back to reality; Peter is my _friend_. It's not right to think of him as... well... like _that_. I feel the color rush to my face as I swallow and say quietly, "Peter?"

He looks up at me and smiles, "Lizzie!" I feel my legs do that annoying jelly thing again and my heart starts fluttering like a butterfly. Relief crosses his features as he asks tentatively, "Are you... alright?"

I flush a deeper red and nod, "I'm sorry about earlier, I know you guys were just trying to help..."

He looks a little concerned as he steps closer. Damn him. He puts a gentle hand on my arm. Double damn him. "Don't be-"

He is cut off by Susan, "Lizzie!"

Lucy rushes up and puts her arms around my waist, "I'm glad you're all right." I hug her back and smile at Susan.

Just then, Edmund emerges from one of the tents a little bleary-eyed and with his mouth open in a huge yawn. He smiles when he sees us.

"Edmund!" I say happily as I go over and hug him lightly, "Welcome back!"

He nods, smiling still "It's good to be back." He looks like he really means that.

"Your Majesties, My Lady," says Miralaine, "Breakfast is ready."

Breakfast was, oddly enough, a quiet affair; a little was said about our journey from the Beaver's Dam and nothing at all was said of Edmund's little adventure. Once finished I put my arms out behind me and lean back on them, enjoying the cool morning air and the company. Peter stands a little ways away, leaning against a rock and holding a goblet, but not drinking; he is deep in thought again. It appears he is trying to come to terms with something...

Susan and Lucy still nibble at their food while Ed full-on wolfs his toast down. Lucy giggles as she watches him, "Narnia's not going to run out of toast Ed."

He flushes pink and mutters through a mouth-full, "It's good."

Peter finally speaks, "I'm sure they'll pack some up for the journey back."

What? Startled, we all turn to him with looks of confusion. Susan looks hopeful, "We're going home?"

He sighs as he sits down between Edmund and me, "You all are. I promised Mum I'd keep you three safe, but there's no reason I can't stay and fight."

There is a collective outburst, "But Peter!" says Susan.

"You can't send me back! I'm going to fight; I belong here." I say.

"I'm staying too." says Edmund.

"But they need us; all five of us!" protests Lucy.

"Lucy, it's too dangerous! You and Lizzie almost drowned, Edmund was almost killed!" he says.

"Which is why we have to stay! I've seen what the White Witch can do," Edmund lowers his head in shame, "I've helped her do it." He looks up with determination, "We can't leave these people behind to suffer for it!"

Lucy takes Edmund's hand warmly in her own.

"Looks like you're stuck with us." I say with a smile.

Susan frowns, "Well, I suppose that's it then." she stands up and begins to walk away.

"Where are you going?" asks Peter; we're all confused.

She picks up her bow and smiles unexpectedly, "To get in some practice!"

Grinning, Lucy jumps up and follows her. With breakfast over now, Peter, Ed and I follow more slowly; Ed still with a piece of toast in his hand. We are met by Oreius and a faun named Tiberius. The girls are taken to an archery range where a good dwarf (not all of them have given their allegiance to the Witch) and a female faun instruct them in the use of the bow and the knife.

Tiberius and Oreius take the boys and me to an empty practice field and there they teach us some basic rules in sword combat. We practice against each other with our swords sheathed at first.

Tiberius and Edmund were paired together and Tiberius is teaching Edmund a nifty little disarming trick that would send his opponent's sword high into the air. Tiberius is short, even for a faun, and he has dark hair and fur. He also has a good sense of humor and a bit of a mischievous streak.

Peter and I are paired together and Peter is on the offensive, but I'm easily blocking every one of his attacks, none of which have very much force behind them.

"Sir Peter!" barks Oreius, who is supervising and instructing us, "She is the enemy! Attack her like you mean it! Do not underestimate her because she is a woman and don't be distracted by her pretty eyes!" he grins.

Both of us are caught off guard; we both turn an ungodly shade of red. Our concentration slips and my defenses open allowing Peter's sword to come down on my collar bone. I gasp in pain and stumble back.

Peter immediately lowers his sword, "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?!" he asks quickly.

A dirt clod hits him in the back of the head, "Don't ask if she's alright! Attack her until she yields!" yells Oreius.

I can't help but laugh at the stunned Peter and I'm rewarded with a dirt clod hitting my shoulder, "Don't lower your defenses, Lady! If you do in battle, you _will_ die!"

Putting on a more serious face, we return to the task at hand, Peter and I attack and block each other with purpose. Satisfied with our performance, Oreius leaves and returns with Blaize, a dusty brown stallion named Phillip, and a panther named Freya. Oreius, Blaize, and Phillip teach the boys mounted combat while Freya takes me aside to teach me the art of fighting like a beast. Edmund is stunned when he first sees me change and we have to stop and explain a little more about our adventures with the Beavers.

At first glance, Freya seems very stern and proper, but lurking beneath that is a cat with a mysterious, fun loving side. She makes an excellent teacher, never letting up on me and making sure I know each movement and defense.

After a while, Oreius and Tiberius leave the rest of us to spar freely, using what we've learned against each other. We fight each other around the outskirts of camp until we find ourselves near the archery range, where Susan and Lucy are practicing; they stop to watch us fight each other.

"Remember, sword point up, like Oreius taught us!" says Peter.

"En garde!" says Edmund with a roguish grin.

"Now block!" shouts Peter.

"Hey!" laughs Ed.

"Keep your weight balanced, Lady!" yells Freya as she lunges at me, knocking me underneath Phillip's hooves. He rears and backs up to avoid stepping on me.

"Whoa, horsey!" says Edmund as he hangs on desperately.

"My name is Phillip." snorts the horse.

"Sorry." Edmund says quickly.

Then, Mr. Beaver runs up, "Peter! Edmund! It's the White Witch! She's here!" he gasps, out of breath.

"Here!?" squeaks Susan.

Beaver nods, "And she demands an audience with Aslan."

Solemnly and silently our group makes haste and returns to camp. We stand on the grounds outside Aslan's tent; the witch isn't there yet, but a dark cloud hangs over the camp. What could she want?

Suddenly there is an uproar and we hear a nasty voice yelling over the chaos, "Make way for the Queen of Narnia and Chatelaine of Cair Paravel! Make way for the Empress of the Lone Islands!" Shouts of protest fill the air as the procession comes into view.

It's her.

Jadis.

A sick feeling burns in the pit of my stomach as I recognize her from my dream. My mouth goes dry as I remember the feel of her blade sliding into my flesh.

The hideous creatures carrying her litter set her down and she stands. Sweeping her skirts aside, she steps forward with an air of arrogant smugness. She glances at Edmund and a frightening sneer touches her lips. Peter and I stand protectively to either side of Ed. She then turns her hungry gaze to Aslan and says icily, "You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

So, it's Edmund she wants, but we won't let him go that easily.

I see a flash of sadness in Aslan's eyes, but he retains his regal composure, "His offense was not against you."

The Witch raises her head haughtily, "Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?"

"Do _not_ cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch!" growls Aslan and his voice lowers dangerously, "I was there when it was _written_."

Jadis raises her eyebrows and smirks, "Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

Swords are drawn all around, Peter and I step forward side by side; weapons drawn, "Try and take him then." growls Peter.

She turns her condescending eyes to us, "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right, little king?" she taunts him. Once more she looks at Aslan, "Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water!" she points a finger at Edmund, "That boy will die on the stone table! As is tradition." Triumph dominates her features now, "You dare not refuse me."

She _will not_ have Edmund.

Its blood she wants?

Then she can have mine.

I drop my sword and step forward, "Take me in his place."

**End of Chapter 30**

Oh noes! A cliffie! Please, please, please review!

Booknerd13: Many, many thanks for your review! Hmm, they might be mentioned later on in this story, but if I decide to write a sequel there will definitely be more about her ancestors... I would have to do a little more research into Narnia though. I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks again!

ScarletRosePetal: Yay, thanks for reviewing! Well, there was more interaction in this chapter; I hope you liked it!

Irish Avalon: Hehe, I loved writing that scene, I was just afraid some people were gonna think it was weird. Thanks so much for your review!

Readerfreak10: I can't make any promises... (shifty eyes) But thank you for reviewing!

StarsOfMystery: Yeah, I want to try to keep the integrity of the original stories and characters while still adding in an OC and a romantic aspect... There have been many times while writing this that I've felt like I'm violating Narnia (sweatdrop). Thank you for your review!


	31. Stone Table

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 31**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

There is immediately a tremendous outcry.

Peter looks at me, horrified, "Lizzie, no!"

The other Pevensies are equally dismayed; Susan lets out a little scream, Lucy takes my hand and Edmund says, "You can't!"

The Witch simply laughs; a frightening thing.

"Enough!" rumbles Aslan and immediately there is silence. "I shall talk with you alone."

The Lion and the Witch disappear into the tent.

There is silence.

Hours pass.

It's horrible; this waiting. There is nothing to do but wait and wonder. Edmund is pale and sick looking. Lucy sits near him, holding his hand while Susan tries unsuccessfully to keep from crying.

For a long while, Peter stands with his back to us, looking out at the sea and Cair Paravel, but eventually he sits down across from Edmund and nervously pulls at the blades of grass.

I pace for a while with my hand on the sword at my hip. Eventually, I too sit down.

The Narnians around us also fidget and stamp uneasily, but everyone becomes still and deathly quiet in the end.

At last, the tent flap opens and the Witch exits, shooting an unreadable glance our way. We leap to our feet; my hand is still on my sword. It's as though the entire camp is holding its breath. We all look to Aslan for an answer to our unspoken question.

He speaks, "She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood."

I let out an involuntary yelp of joy, and I'm not the only one; the entire camp begins to breathe again with relief. I then find myself pulled into a tearful hug with the Pevensies.

But we are interrupted; the Witch turns back to Aslan, "How do I know your promise will be kept?"

Promise? What promise?

Aslan opens his mouth and a terrible sound comes out; a roar that grows louder and louder, and the Witch stares for a moment before falling back into her chair fearfully. A triumphant cheer bursts from everyone's lips as we watch the Witch be put in her place.

After an almost cheerful lunch, everyone in the camp once again busies themselves with their tasks; there is still a battle to be fought. Aslan takes Peter aside to speak with him; Edmund and I are there too, but Aslan's words are directed more at Peter. He begins to explain to him about the upcoming battle and how it will be likely that the Witch will fall back to her castle and prepare for a siege. He outlines the differences between a battle on an open field and a siege; making sure we know what to do with the troops in each event.

Then, Peter said, "But you'll be there yourself, won't you Aslan?"

"I can give you no promise of that." He replied.

I am a little disturbed by this reply and Peter is shocked, but Aslan continues his instructions.

Aslan's mood affects everyone; it's as though something is hanging over us all. The cheeriness that had been there last night and even this morning is gone. The Pevensies and I become very quiet at the thought that Aslan might not be there. A feeling of being forced to grow up clings to me; the good times, though hardly begun, have already come to their close.

That night, I sleep fitfully.

My dream is so strange; it is a dark night and I stand at the top of a hill. I stand on top of a huge table carved deeply with runes. But it is strange; I have no control over my actions; I am simply a silent watcher.

Everywhere around me I see in the smoky torchlight, droves of nightmare creatures, but none of them dare come too near me.

In my hands I hold a strange and evil looking stone knife.

Why would I have such a thing?

I want to cast the wicked thing into the darkness; I just want to get it away, but my hands still gently caress it.

Then, at the base of the worn, stone steps there is a Lion.

Aslan!

I want to run to him, but I stand firmly in my place.

There is a long climb up the hill and the creatures draw back away from Him with fear and apprehension until he finally comes to a stop before the great dais.

At last, I speak, "Behold, the Great Lion."

All around, jeering and taunting fills the air, but I can't hear it; all I can do is gasp with horror at the voice coming from my mouth. Jadis. I realize now what is happening and I want to scream, to run away, but I am stuck fast in the Witch's body.

The Minotaur general knocks Aslan from his feet.

But why won't he fight back?

"Bind him!" I hear the accursed voice come from my mouth again.

The beasts set upon him, tying him cruelly with lengths of rough rope.

"Wait!" I yell, and for a moment I feel a bit of hope; perhaps she will let him go? Then I feel my lips curl into a horrible sneer, "Let him first be shaved."

No! I want to scream as the things draw their blades and take claw-fulls of Aslan's beautiful mane. They saw and rip at his great mane, not caring if they cut him. Tiny rivulets of blood trickle from many small cuts and tears in his skin.

Why? Why! Why must she humiliate him so?

I feel ill as my body hungrily watches this. The Witch begins to breathe faster, almost in ecstasy and she says with a husky voice, "Bring him to me."

The creatures drag him none too gently up to the table and they hold the lines taut to keep him from moving even though he had not struggled at all through all of this. The cowards; are they still afraid of him, even now?

Outwardly, my body heaves with excitement and fierce delight as the Witch trembles with anticipation.

Inside, I'm screaming.

I'm screaming, but no one can hear me.

Aslan is at my feet now and the feverish pitch of the hoard around us grows with every second.

The Witch throws her arm out and immediately there is silence.

Then there is a slow and steady, hollow beating as the cursed ones begin to beat their weapons against the ground to the beat of Aslan's heart.

I step closer to him and kneel beside him, the Witch puts our hand out, almost afraid to touch him, and rests it against his heart. Something quickens inside her as he flinches under her hand. I want to pull away, but I can't.

She leans closer to him and whispers softly in his ear like a lover, so no one else can hear, "You know Aslan, I'm a little disappointed in you," she rubs what is left of his mane almost lovingly. I feel sick as a few drops of his warm blood touches my hand; from where his mane used to be. The Witch smiles with bestial elation at the sensation, "Do you honestly think that by all this, you can save the human traitor? You are giving me your life and saving no one." She lets out a short laugh; she can barely contain her bloodlust now, "So much for love."

She stands and faces her followers.

Our body sings with unbridled lust and sickening joy.

The Witch revels in it.

"_This can't be happening, it must be a dream."_ I think desperately.

"Tonight the Deep Magic will be appeased and tomorrow we will take Narnia forever!" I yell over the clamor with nauseating pleasure. The mass shrieks as they share her desire. I look down at Aslan, "In that knowledge, despair,"

The knife is raised.

I'm begging to wake up.

"And die!"

A heartrending scream of wretchedness claws its way from my throat and the blade plunges down into flesh.

Blood wells around my hand.

The heart slows.

The last breath is released.

And still I scream.

"The Great Cat is dead!"

"Lizzie!"

I feel myself being roughly shaken, "Lizzie, wake up! It's just a dream!"

My eyes fly open to see Peter's face inches from my own, "P-Peter?" I whisper uncertainly.

Relief floods his features as he looks at me, "Yes, It's me. You were just having a bad dream." He says as he lightly brushes my hair out of my face and tucks it behind my ear.

Confused I look around; Edmund, Miralaine, and Aurora are all there, but I barely see them as what I have just witnessed is still fresh in my mind. I begin to shudder as I look back at Peter, "N-no, it wasn't a dream; it was real and I killed him!" I say quickly and almost incoherently.

Peter frowns, worried, "Killed? Lizzie, you just had a nightmare."

"No! No-no-no-no! You don't understand; he's dead! She killed him! I killed him!" I say as I begin to sob; the memory of the murder and the horrible violation bombard me. Why don't they understand? "Aslan is dead!" I cry in agony.

Color drains from every face and I hear whispers all around.

Stunned, Peter stares at me, "But Aslan's not... Aslan's alive, Lizzie."

"No," I whimper, "I killed him..." I cling to Peter desperately and he holds me securely as he soothingly strokes my hair.

Then, the tent flap is blown open, bringing with it crisp pre-dawn air and a dryad. There is a look of intense grief on her gentle face. Startled, Edmund had jumped up. She wearily raises her hand, "Be still my Princes; I bring grave news from your sisters." Her voice cracks with emotion as she continues, "Aslan is dead."

Peter's jaw drops and his arms tighten around me as I weep into his shoulder.

"What?" chokes out Edmund.

She can no longer contain her sorrow anymore and an amber colored tear runs down her brown cheek, "Killed, by the White Witch."

Miralaine dries her tears and leads her away, closely followed by Aurora.

I pull away from Peter, who seems reluctant to let go of me, and dry my own tears. Without speaking, the boys and I go to Aslan's pavilion. Edmund and I wait outside with Oreius as Peter goes in alone. He exits a moment later, visibly bearing a great burden on his shoulders. His voice is heavy when he speaks, "She's right; he's gone." He has the look of a much older man as he leans tiredly on the little table.

The silence is thick with unspoken misery until Edmund says quietly and bravely, "Then you'll have to lead us." Peter looks up at him uncertainly. "Peter, there's an army out there and it's ready to follow you."

"But I can't..." he looks at me with pleading eyes.

"Aslan believed you could." I whisper.

"And so do I." says Edmund.

Peter looks to the two of us and seems to draw strength from our presence.

"The Witch's army is nearing, Sire. What are your orders?" says Oreius gently but firmly.

Peter takes a deep breath and looks down at the small strategy table. With only a little of Oreius' help, he plans out a simple strategy and orders places for the Narnian troops. Now, he seems to have more energy, "Edmund, I want you on the ridge with the archers."

"But-"

"No buts; I want you there to lead the archers and to give the signal for the phoenix... and I want you to get the girls home if I... if I don't make it." interrupts Peter.

Edmund pales and I say quickly, "Don't talk like that."

Peter looks at me and his face is unreadable, "Lizzie, I want you on the ridge with Edmund."

"No." I say simply.

"Lizzie, I-"

"No." I interrupt him, but he continues.

"I don't want you hurt; I want you to watch over Edmund."

"No." I say again. "Peter, I'm going to the front lines with you; I'm not leaving you alone. Whatever happens, I'm going to stay with you through this."

"Please?" he begs me.

"No." I say for the last time.

He sighs, resignedly and nods. After that, our attendants take us into our tents and fit us with our armor.

Aurora silently helps me into a clean, cream colored quilted tunic and hose; it feels so strange to wear pants. After that, she helps strap me into stiff, steel banded, reinforced, black leather armor made especially for me. Once on, it is surprisingly comfortable. I flush pink as I look down at my sleek, leather sheathed body; being made for me, the armor fits every curve of my body.

After that is completed, I belt my sword to my waist and Aurora pulls my hair back into a tight braid, wrapped in a few black leather straps. Finally, I pull on soft, high topped, black leather boots.

I exit the tent to see Peter helping Edmund with one of the straps on his greaves. Both of them are clad in chainmail with plate greaves, pauldrons, bracers, and with matching red tunics emblazoned with the great golden Lion. The two of them gawk at me when they see me, but there isn't enough time to say anything as Mr. Beaver shows up, outfitted in a small chainmail shirt, to take Edmund to the ridge.

Peter and I have a moment alone. He turns to me with his helmet under his arm, "Won't you please at least consider going to the ridge."

"I can't do that Peter. I'm going to protect you; it's something I have to do." we are close, so close I can feel the warmth coming off of him in the brisk dawn. There is silence between us and words left unspoken. I'm not even sure what it means, but I know that this is where I belong. We draw closer and our breath begins to mingle...

"Your Majesty, my Lady?" says a soft voice. Peter and I jump apart as though shocked. Blaize looks at us almost sadly, and continues gently, "Are you ready to go to the front?"

We both nod and follow him solemnly through camp to the flat flood-plains of the Great River near the fords of Beruna. The sun is just peeking over the horizon and the Narnians are eerily silent but for the occasional muffled shout of an officer aligning his troops.

It's like the breath before the dive; like the still before the storm.

Blaize leads us to a small, rocky rise in front of the army, where Oreius awaits us. Everyone calmly readies their bodies and their minds for what is to come.

I find myself standing with Peter again. He reaches out his hand as though to tenderly stroke my cheek, but instead he puts his hand awkwardly on my shoulder. The tips of his fingers lightly brush my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. His face is once again unreadable as our eyes lock. He seems unsure of what to say, but what is there to say at a time like this? "Be safe." He whispers.

"I promise," I reply, "only if you are."

Our eye contact is broken when he looks away and nods. He takes his hand from my shoulder and dons his helmet before mounting Blaize. We all turn to the empty horizon; knowing what lies beyond it.

Nothing to do now but wait.

Wait to die.

Wait to live.

**End of Chapter 31**

Yay! I think this is my longest chapter yet! And today is my birthday! WOOT! I'm so excited! As always; I'm begging you for your opinions, no matter what they may be! Thank you for reading and please review!

BlackRoseVine: Thanks for reviewing! I hope you like the update and I'll get to the next chapter as soon as I can!

Readerfreak10: Aww, thank you; both for reviewing and for the compliment!

StarsOfMystery: Thanks! Yeah, I'm trying to smoothly combine the book, the movie, and my OC; I'm just happy y'all like it. XP

ScarletRosePetal: Lol, I _can't_ have Lizzie die in Aslan's place! That would totally mess up the whole story! But there is a battle coming up... so, you might want this box of Kleenexes... Many thank yous for reviewing!

Irish Avalon: Ack! So violent! Here's your darn chapter! Hehe, thanks so much for your review!


	32. Battle of Beruna

**Narnia: The Chronicles of the Lioness**

**Chapter 32**

**By: **Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

As the sun rises slowly in the east, it burns away the thin fog lingering in the river valley and the sky turns a brilliant blue. Then, Diarmaid, the leader of the gryphons drops from the sky, landing lightly beside me with a whisper of settling feathers. He is breathing heavily as he looks up at Peter and me, "They come, Your Highness, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own!"

On Peter's other side, Oreius rumbles stoically, "Numbers do not win a battle."

"No," Peter looks a little green as he watches the horizon, "but I bet they help."

My breath catches in my throat as I start to hear a far-off, thudding and buzzing sound accompanied by a persistent and resonant beating reverberating up from the ground and through my feet and legs. It's the sound of a marching army worked into a bloodlust frenzy. Just as I realize this, a jet black line appears on the horizon, stretching across the entire basin.

The Witch has come.

My stomach feels like a snake pit and every nerve in my body shivers with adrenaline and emotions: anticipation, anger and fear. It's real now. For the first time I feel the truth really sinking in; we are about to be in a battle. My people are going to fight and many are going to die. My friends, no, my _family_ is going to fight.

I could loose Edmund.

I could loose Peter.

_I_ could die.

The dark army wickedly bellows with wild abandon.

Beside me, Peter draws his sword and holds it up; the morning sun illuminates the steel like a bright beacon and behind us, Narnia roars.

With a great howl, half of the Witch's army surges forward like an evil tide. It spreads across the green Narnian land like a plague, swallowing and destroying everything it touches.

Peter brings his sword down in an abrupt chopping motion; it's the signal to Edmund and the gryphons to begin their aerial attack. The air is filled with the screech of eagles and gryphons, the crowing of the ravens, and the trumpeting of the winged horses as the Narnian air force takes to flight. Beside me, in a flurry of wings and feathers, Diarmaid joins them in the bright blue sky.

They fly to a position above Jadis's army and proceed to drop boulders and debris of all sizes on their heads. In response, endless numbers of hairless, ugly bat-like gremlins take flight to attack. The enemy dwarves, being excellent archers, take aim at our people. Many of them fly upwards, winging their way out of range of the dwarven bows, but a few of them plummet lifelessly from the air to land on the unforgiving ground below.

Every time one of them falls, my stomach tightens and I fight to harden myself; I mustn't cry.

Not now.

I have to fight.

I have to be strong.

For Narnia.

For Peter.

For Aslan.

Peter looks to Oreius, "Are you with me?"

Oreius looks back at him, almost confused as to why he would ask such a question, "To the death."

Peter nods and gazes down at me. His lips part; I can see in his eyes that he desperately wants to tell me something, and I want to tell him something too; the problem is that I don't even know what it is I so urgently need to say. We both look away before anything can be said.

Now, his sword is raised again and his back is straight as he sits tall on Blaize's back; he truly looks like a king. He stares ahead at the oncoming army and he cries out, "For Narnia and for Aslan!"

All around us the Narnians raise a great battle cry and next to me, Blaize rears with Peter and whinnies his own cry. My mouth opens of its own volition and I find myself screaming Aslan's name. That scream turns into a great roar as I shift into a lioness.

The moment Blaize's hooves touch the ground, we lunge forward and the Narnian army becomes a wave with Peter and me at its crest. The air and the earth are filled with the tremendous and resounding beat of hooves and feet. Blaize and I pull ahead of the others allowing the Narnian army to spread behind us and to either side like wings, while ahead the enemy turns away from the flying beasts to charge at us.

Blaize's hoof-beats boom and my softer paw-beats synchronize and blend until they are as thunder in my ears.

Slowly, my field of vision begins to narrow as I focus on the enemy ahead.

Sounds also begin to fade and the roar dies down until all I feel and all I hear is the hammering of my own heart.

Directly ahead of me, there is a snowy white tiger with a hideous snarl on his otherwise stunning face. My golden-brown eyes meet his silver-blue ones and they lock; we have chosen each other as our first opponent. Together, our paws pound the earth as we charge at each other. When we draw closer, I can make out each individual hair on his broad face.

As one, we leap towards each other and meet in-flight. Our bodies slam together and entwine in mid-air.

Suddenly, the sounds around us explode and I can hear clearly every scream and clash of weaponry.

Before we crash to the ground, the tiger locks his powerful jaws on the back of my neck and his hind legs lash out like pistons, hitting my stomach with massive force. We roll in the grass, roaring and wriggling until I manage to free my neck; at that moment I shift, exposing my soft skin to his merciless claws, but before any damage can be done I plunge my blade downward into his heart.

It only takes a few moments for him to bleed out and die.

With an arm over my bruised tummy, I try to pull my sword out of the tiger's corpse, but it is wedged in-between its ribs. I am able to pull it free, but in the split second that I am distracted, an evil wolf tackles me, clamping its iron jaws down on my neck and shoulder.

I scream in pain as the beast brings me down, pinning me under his body. It then starts to violently shake its head back and forth, trying to forcibly rip my flesh from my bones. I can't even scream as I am whipped back and forth. Franticly, I try to push the thing away with my left hand as I grope for the hilt of my sword with my right. Adrenaline pumps through me as I finally grab my blade and desperately swing and thrust it upwards into the soft tissue of the wolf, killing it.

I shove the dead weight of the wolf off me and scramble to my feet. Immediately I am forced into battle with a hag. After decapitating her, there is a lull in the fighting around me; I use it to look around for Peter.

I spot him a few yards away. Unfortunately, he and Blaize stick out like a sore thumb; he is obviously our leader, our king, a perfect target to stop our rebellion. The enemy swarms around them, intent on bringing Peter down. Blaize is dragging the evil beings under his hooves and crushing them while Peter is fending off others, but it's just not enough; they need help.

"No!" I growl through gritted teeth as I watch one of the winged gremlins begin a dive aiming right at Peter.

Right away I shift into my feline self and dash towards Peter. Will I get there in time? When I get closer, I bound up onto an exposed rock and use it as a launch pad; I hurl my self into the air, meeting the demon halfway and right over Peter's head.

Together we fall and roll a few feet away from Blaize. I hear a crack as its fragile wing breaks beneath my weight. I reach down and take its neck in my jaws and then I viciously jerk my head sideways to snap the thing's neck. That deed done, I look back up at Peter; he nods a quick thanks before he is forced to defend himself again.

After that, I stay next to Peter and Blaize.

Nearby, on the ground is Riordan. There's a huge gash across his horse chest and belly. Blood is everywhere and I can smell the stench of his ruptured intestines. His eyes are wide and his arms still reach out powerlessly for his sword lying a few feet away. He's dead.

I bite back tears as I continue to fight.

I am breathing heavily, but the adrenaline surging through me, keeps me from exhaustion.

The air vibrates with rumbling undertones as the Witch and the rest of her army crawl forward.

I have just stopped a wolf from snapping at Blaize's legs when I hear the strange and beautiful song of the phoenix. Nearly everyone on the battlefield glances up as Lyra the phoenix glides toward us. I catch a flash of movement in my peripheral vision and turn to see three dwarves with arrows at the ready and just beyond them is another ugly winged creature making a bee-line for her.

Lyra must make it to the battlefield; she is our only chance to cut the enemy forces in half.

"Peter!" I yell in warning, but he has already seen. We share a quick and wordless nod before he grabs a spear sticking up from the corpse of a minotaur; he aims and throws at the flying beast, but I don't witness the outcome.

It's up to me to take out the dwarves.

As a lioness, I charge at them; killing one within moments. The second dwarf is struggling with his bow when I take his vile tasting head in my jaws and bite down; crushing his skull like a ping-pong ball. Unfortunately, the last dwarf has had enough time to regain composure and he aims his bow at me. I dodge but the arrow hits me in the thigh and I scream in pain as I unwillingly change back into a girl.

There is a clamor of hooves as Peter and Blaize come to my rescue. Peter knocks the head of the enemy dwarf right off. He puts his visor up and yells, "Are you alright?"

I don't want him to worry about me; I don't want him hurt because he was distracted by me. I grasp the arrow in my hand and quickly yank it out; I am unprepared for the pain and I gasp and hiss through clenched teeth as I nod quickly and unconvincingly.

Just then, the phoenix-song sounds again as Lyra folds her wings and dives for the field. A few meters above the ground, her wings unfurl and she glides horizontally over the ground. The feathers of Lyra's wings brighten and then burst into white hot flame as she closes the last few feet to the ground and streaks across it like lightning, leaving a wall of roaring flames reaching thirty feet into the air; cutting the Witch off from her forces on our side of the battlefield.

Even though I am many yards away, I can feel the heat of the raging fire on my face and Blaize instinctively backs up a few steps. Around us many Narnians cheer but, suddenly freezing winds sweep over us and a hole is ripped in the phoenix-fire wall.

Like an icy statue, Jadis holds her wand aloft and snaps the reins of her polar bear-drawn chariot, leading her army forward.

I let out a gasp of dismay as I watch the enemy pour through the breach in the fire wall. Beside me, Peter yells, "Fall back! Draw them to the rocks!"

A little ways away, Oreius blows a note on his horn; it is the signal for retreat.

Everywhere, Narnians turn tail and run for the rocky gullies and ravines. I grab my sword and scramble to my feet, but I wince as my left thigh burns with pain. Around me, most of the Narnians have gone and behind, the Witch advances.

I limp away with one hand on the bloody hole in my armor. Luckily the leather had prevented the arrow head from going too deep and it had really only penetrated about an inch and a half, but it still hurts like hell.

I hear hooves and I look up to see Blaize and Peter coming back for me. Peter yells my name and holds out a hand, I grab it and he pulls me up behind him. I put my arms securely around his waist as Peter shouts to Blaize, "Go!"

The Witch is almost upon us.

Blaize leaps forward and begins to gallop, a unicorn's gallop, and in no time at all we've reached the rocks. I hold tightly to Peter's waist and bury my face against the back of his neck as the wind whips some of my hair loose. Twanging and buzzing sounds fill the air as our people fire on our pursuers and arrows fill the air above our heads.

Suddenly, Blaize jerks beneath us and I am jolted into the air. I land on my back with a heavy thud and every bit of air is painfully knocked from my lungs. My head is spinning as I stare up at the sky, stunned.

I roll onto my side and cough a little as I suck in air. I get to my hands and knees and look around; Peter is a few feet away on his back and Baize is a few yards beyond him, unmoving and covered in blood with an arrow in his side.

I crawl over to Peter, his helmet is missing and he looks stunned and out of breath, but otherwise unharmed. Nearby, the Witch's army is marching into the ravines. I grab Peter's arm, "Peter! You have to get up!" my voice sounds strange and strained to my ears.

Peter sits up, breathing heavily. He quickly looks me over, silently checking for injuries, "Your leg..."

I'm about to brush it off but before I say anything, Oreius and a Narnian rhinoceros charge past us, headlong towards the witch to protect us.

"No!" Peter and I scream reflexively and we watch helplessly as the rhinoceros tramples several dwarves, but he is brought down by three minotaurs and a tiger.

Oreius knocks aside a few smaller enemy creatures before going into battle with Jadis' minotaur general. Oreius continues galloping forward even as he fights the minotaur, he batters him against the rocky walls until finally thrusting both of his blades backward into the creature as it clings to his back.

He draws his colossal two-handed claymore as he closes the distance between himself and the Witch.

He swings at her head, but she dodges and he rears, trying to lash out at her with his hooves. She trusts her ice-sickle like wand upward toward his underbelly and Peter and I watch in horror as he is turned to stone before our very eyes.

But there is no time to mourn; immediately we are forced back into battle as the demons swarm over us.

Peter and I fight to our feet. We are alone in a sea of enemies. Back to back, we fend them off.

I know my hands are moving. I know my teeth are clenched and that sweat is pouring down my face as my hands swing my sword through the air like a singing demon of steel.

But I can't feel it. I can't feel any of it.

I am so focused on my struggle for survival that I can't feel anything. I can't feel my own body, I can't even feel my wounded leg. It's as if it doesn't exist. Nothing exists but my sword and the blades of my enemies.

And Peter.

His back is pressed against mine. I know that, even though I can't feel it. I'm not only defending myself, but I am defending him. And he is defending me. If I fall so will he. If he falls, so too will I.

I am living for him.

He is living for me.

It's ironic really; you are never more alive then when you are about to die...

The enemies around us thin and out of the haze I hear several voices screaming, "To the king! Narnians, rally to your king!" Edmund and the other Narnians have joined us, but we are still outnumbered four to one.

The frighteningly strange yet exhilarating moment is over when Peter and I pull apart.

By this time, the adrenaline is straining to keep me moving and the battle is taking its toll on me; my movements are slower and a little sluggish. I bite my lip; I can't let my guard down. I must stay alive. I promised I would.

I'm fighting a minotaur now. He is head and shoulders taller than I am and his strength is much greater, but I am smaller and more agile, not to mention I have the element of surprise on my side in the form of my changeling abilities. I kill him, being careful not to get my blade jammed in his armor or his ribs.

As he falls, I hear the ring of a blade behind me.

I turn to find Her.

Jadis.

She stands only a few feet away, staring at me with an insatiable hunger in her eyes. In her left hand, she holds her wand and in her right is the wicked, long, stone knife that my hands had plunged into Aslan's heart.

My jaw clenches with a mixture of anger and pain as I match her stare.

I look her up and down. Her eyes are rimmed in thick, crimson paint; or at least I _think_ its paint. On her head, there is a golden headdress in the shape of a stylized animal skull; her pale yellow hair bursts from the back of her head in a frightening torrent. Her dress is blackened chainmail topped with thick yellow fur around her shoulders.

My heart skips a beat and I cry out in misery when I realize the truth of her golden mantle.

It is Aslan's mane.

It's unevenly chopped and dirty; it's covered in grime and blood, and its beautiful and strong shine has dimmed, but there is no mistaking it; that bitch is wearing Aslan's mane as a trophy. She wears it like a crowning glory and the smugness in her face cannot be missed as she notes my discovery.

How dare she taint His Crown and his memory with her foul ways.

How _dare_ she.

I lunge at her, screaming with grief and rage.

She easily sidesteps my attack and smoothly brings her ice wand up. Alarmed, I jump back; one touch from that thing and it's over. I swipe at the wand with my sword, but she pulls it out of reach and counters with her long knife.

And this is how our battle continues; every time she tries to petrify me, I counter with an attack at her wand. The sword, the knife, and the wand slice through the air in a shimmering blur, humming with fearsome force. But I can't get the upper hand; I am always forced to defend against her wand and she is slowly, but surely backing me into a narrow gully. Her triumphant air of smugness is gone, replaced by anger and icy concentration; I am the only Narnian to have lasted this long against her.

It is all I can do to defend, but it's just not enough.

Then, she over-commits as she jabs at me unexpectedly with her wand. Startled, I block and try to shatter it, but just as quickly as it is thrust at me, Jadis pulls it back and her knife comes up underneath my defenses.

Too late I realize her feint and my mistake.

Jadis thrusts her knife upwards into my belly and behind my ribs. The weird stone cuts smoothly through the thick leather armor and my soft flesh.

The pain is unspeakable.

I can feel the razor edges of the sharpened stone inside me, cutting me from within. She has jammed the knife in up to its hilt and I can feel every inch of its icy horror. With inhuman strength, she cruelly twists the blade in me.

Intense pain washes over me and I stagger forward, pressing the knife ever deeper into myself. I can see now, my own bright crimson blood pouring over Jadis' hand.

Despair wells inside me and spreads outward from the blade like a poison. I can only think one thought; I've failed.

I can't make a sound, I can only struggle to gasp for air, but it's so hard. I can't breathe. I can feel my life trickle away with my blood.

I've failed.

I couldn't stay alive. I've failed in my promise to Peter.

I couldn't protect Narnia.

Maybe Peter will kill the Witch.

Narnia is probably better off without this failure that I am.

I've failed to avenge Aslan.

I've failed to kill Jadis.

I've failed.

Jadis. Her mouth is open and she is panting, not with exhaustion, but with a perverted sense of orgasmic joy. She is reveling in my death and drinking it in like sweet ambrosia; to her, death is a twisted, life-giving experience.

But I can't look at her; I can only look at Aslan's mane; its beauty cannot be covered by the Witch's evil taint.

I've failed him.

Desperately, with the last of my strength, I make one last attempt to redeem myself; to kill Jadis. I reach up with my hand and grab her face. As I do, my fingers change into thick, black claws and I rake them slowly and agonizingly down the side of her face and neck.

She does not bleed as well as I had hoped; her blood is thick and dark, almost like the congealed blood of a long-dead corpse and the wound does nothing to stop her.

She lets go of the knife in surprise and takes a step back, her eyes are wide in shock. She reaches up to delicately feel her face. When she sees her own blood on her thin, white fingertips, she looks at me with fiery rage and in a movement too swift to see, she jams the tip of her wand viciously against my chest over my heart.

Instantly I feel splinters of fire and ice pierce my heart.

The horrendous sensation spreads outwards, capturing my limbs and holding them immobile.

The last thing I see is Jadis turning her back to me and picking up my sword, hefting it thoughtfully in her right hand.

My vision goes dark.

I've failed.

**End of Chapter 32**

Oh, I'm so evil. I bet you all hate me right now... (cries) My classes started this week, so it'll prolly be a little bit longer between chapters, the good part is that there shouldn't be a huge amount of chapters left.

**BlackRoseVine:** Yay! I'm glad you like it! So, what do you think of the battle so far? And you'll just have to wait and see if anything happens between Peter and Lizzie (wink).

**Readerfreak10:** Thank you, I was going to have her see from Aslan's POV, but that seemed too invasive and irreverent so I went with the Witch.

**StarsOfMystery:** Lol, Thanks! It's supposed to feel like the "end of the world" because it potentially could be. And _if_ they kiss (shifty glance) I PROMISE that it will be more than "and they kissed" because I hate it when that happens too.

**brezzybrez:** Thanks so much! You've reviewed every chapter! But I was wondering if there was anything you liked you disliked in particular; what's your favorite part? Your least favorite part?

**ScarletRosePetal:** Thank you; I try not to follow the "usual fanfiction way," lol! What do you think of the battle?

**Mrs. St. John Allerdyce:** Oh, my... I didn't even realize that when I was writing it (sweat) but now that you mention it... Should I change it? Thank you for reviewing, btw.

**oONight.WitchOo:** Hehe, thank you! I hope you liked this update!

**Aussie Lover22:** Thanks so much! I'm so glad you like it! What do you think of the update?

**Irish Avalon:** Aww (huggles you) I hate when computers go fritzy; I hope you don't have any more troubles! Thank you for reviewing and for the birthday wishes!

**Starglass:** Thank you! I love surprising people, hehe! Did this chapter surprise you at all? Did you even like it?


	33. Victories and Losses

**The Chronicles of the Lioness: The First Adventure**

**Chapter: 33**

**By:** Lady Aescwyn

**Note:** Ack! I'm SO sorry! Thank you so much to everyone who's read this story and especially to those who've taken the time to review it. I can't tell you how much I love and appreciate your feedback. Again, I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. So much has been happening in my real life and unfortunately that takes precedence over this story. I'll actually be moving again within the next couple days...

That aside... While I've had time to write, I've been working on a lot of things including a rewrite of this story and its sequels. Yep, multiple sequels including Caspian and stories that take place during the Golden Years. I was rereading this and I didn't like what I was reading, especially in the earlier chapters so I'm rewriting this story too. A few things will change, but hopefully all for a better story in the end. So just think of this as a rough draft!

For this chapter (and the rewrite as well), the POV has changed from first person and present tense to third person/omniscient and past tense...

Thank you every one and again, I'm so sorry. I'll be publishing what I can, when I can.

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

The Witch's army crashed into the gorges and broke on the rocks like waves on the shore. Within moments, the crags were full of enemies. In no time, they had reached Edmund's position, forcing him and the archers to fight hand to hand.

Ed had lost sight of Peter and Lizzie when Blaize had been shot down, so he felt a wave of relief as he spotted the two of them through the crush of bodies. They were back to back and fighting for their lives. He fought his way toward his brother, utilizing everything he had been taught in his short training. He was vaguely aware of Mr. Beaver staying near him as he fought; it was hard to concentrate on anything beyond staying alive and all his extra attention was focused on getting to his brother.

"To the king! Narnians, rally to your king!" he yelled, trying to gather support to Peter's position. Unfortunately, they were too greatly outnumbered and any rescue was futile. All they could do was fight to stay alive.

A Cyclops crashed into Edmund, nearly knocking him form his feet. He stumbled, but regained his balance just in time to duck under the monster's monstrous cleaver. The huge chunk of blackened metal whooshed through the air over his head and glanced off of one of the rocks. It wasn't an elegant weapon, but it suited the monster's deadly purpose. Edmund barely escaped decapitation and wove his way beneath the Cyclops's arm to disembowel the creature. He yanked his blade out of the dying monster and kicked it away from him as it fell.

He had barely taken a breath when he heard Peter's voice from behind him "Edmund! There's too many!" There was a lull around him and Edmund looked back to see Peter yelling at him. Lizzie was nowhere to be seen and Peter had a desperate look that Edmund had never seen before on his face. "Get out of here!" he yelled before he was set upon by a goblin. He quickly dispatched the monster and turned back to his brother to yell, "Get the girls and get them home!" He couldn't get any more out before he was tackled by a huge, russet colored minotaur.

Edmund's eyes were wide, and for the first time since the start of the battle, he felt an incapacitating sense of fear gripping him. Up until now, he had been afraid, sure, but he had been focused on the battle and that had driven him. Now, what he saw in his brother's eyes scared him more than any monster; hopelessness. Peter knew it was over, he knew he was going to die.

Beaver's warm paws on Edmund's hands startled him from his stupor, "You heard him! Let's go!" he cried and dragged Edmund away.

Edmund nodded robotically and followed Mr. Beaver. The two of them scrambled up the side of the ravine and as he climbed, the paralyzing feeling of fear that Edmund had felt, faded. All of a sudden he felt horrified, how could he just run like this? Only a coward would leave Peter and Lizzie behind like that.

Edmund was no coward.

He turned back to see Peter alone in a sea of enemies. Realizing that Edmund had stopped, Beaver cried, "Peter said get out of here!"

From his vantage point, Edmund could see Narnians dying everywhere around him. In a ravine to his right he spotted Lizzie and she was fighting the Witch. She was alone and the Witch was backing her into a corner. She needed help.

"Peter's not king yet!" retorted Ed as he half ran, half slid down the steep rocks. Beaver went to stop him, but he was forced to defend himself as a trio of dwarves ambushed him.

Edmund was halfway down the side of the gorge when he looked up just in time to see the Witch plunge her knife into Lizzie. He stopped, shocked. He had seen his fair share of death this day, more death than any boy his age should have to see, but this was different. He knew Lizzie, he had grown up with her, she was his friend...

Horror gripped his insides and he found himself unable to move as he watched Lizzie gasp and stagger backward in pain. Her soft, round face twisted in agony and she reached forward to rake her fingers down the side of the Witch's face. The Witch pulled back in shock before jabbing at Lizzie with her wand, turning his friend into a statue of anguish.

The Witch coolly backed away from the girl and picked up her fallen sword. She casually hefted it in her hand; she would take it to replace the knife she had left in the statue behind her. She turned back to the battle, now more determined than ever to stop the Narnian usurpers. Every Narnian that lunged at her was quickly murdered as she made a beeline for their king.

Edmund gasped, forcing air into his lungs and willing his limbs to obey him and move. He couldn't let the Witch reach his brother; he couldn't watch her kill him too. This had all been his fault and he had to redeem himself.

As the Witch stalked through the rocks, the battle seemed to part before her. She was closing in on Peter. Edmund noticed an outcropping of rock that ran just above where she was walking and he forced himself to move. He would try to ambush her. Ed ran along the ridge as fast as he could make his legs move and soon he was above her. She was taking her sweet time, almost as though she were savoring the thought of crushing Peter and ending this rebellion. Just like she had ended Aslan and Lizzie and all of the other Narnians that had dared to stand against her.

Edmund let out an inarticulate battle cry as he leapt from the ledge, aiming his sword at the witch's wand. Having seen how the Witch had defeated Lizzie, he knew that if there was the slimmest chance of defeating her, it would have to be after her wand was broken. Unfortunately, the Witch spotted him, just before he reached her and she yanked her wand out of his reach.

Ed landed and backed up a few steps, wide-eyed. His plan had been based on surprise and that had failed. He would have to fight her now.

Jadis sneered at the little boy before her; he couldn't be much older than ten. She didn't even bother raising Lizzie's sword; it would be simple to kill this boy. She lunged at him with her wand.

The witch was fast, but Edmund was faster. He sidestepped her attack and turned his body as he brought his sword over his head and down on the icicle-like wand, shattering it.

Thunder rippled trough the air and there was a brilliant blue flash of light that momentarily blinded Ed. He stumbled back, blinking furiously. He raised his sword to defend himself, but the Witch batted it way and with her smooth face twisted into an ugly look of rancor, she plunged what was left of her silver wand into the boy's body.

Edmund had never known pain like this. The worst thing he'd ever felt was that one time he'd stubbed his toe and broken it. His mouth was open and he gasped for air, but he couldn't speak or even scream.

Jadis wrenched the wand out of him and threw it aside as his body crumpled at her feet. Her wand now ruined, she picked up Edmund's sword and turned to see Peter staring at her, his face white with horror, fear, despair, and anger.

Peter had seen everything. The thunder that had rippled outward as the wand was broken had caused a momentary respite in the battle around the Witch and Peter had been struck motionless with terror as he saw his little brother facing Jadis alone.

Then she had stabbed him. An involuntary cry was ripped from Peter's throat as he saw his brother mercilessly cut down right in front of him. Then the Witch picked up Ed's sword, turned, and saw Peter.

She smiled.

Suddenly Peter was enraged. Rage burned through him like fire, searing away any fear he felt. He roared as he jammed his sword into the fallen minotaur at his feet, killing it. He charged at the Witch. His anger narrowed his vision and he couldn't see anything else as he closed in on her.

Jadis waited patiently for him to come to her. He swung his sword at her, not even bothering to block with his shield. His rage made him strong, but it also made him careless; this would be too easy.

Jadis calmly parried his blow, with that same cold smile on her face. She had already won and she knew it. Aslan was dead as well as the girl, the protector of the thrones, and now one of the little kings was slowly dying behind her. Peter was the only one left. Nothing could stop her now. She was almost sad that it was over and she wanted to savor her victory, so she toyed with Peter like a cat with her prey. She didn't want him to die too quickly.

In a flurry of blades, the Witch blocked Peter and counter-attacked. The tip of one of her blades grazed his eyebrow and he fell back. He was already exhausted from the battle and his legs shook beneath him, but anger and adrenaline helped him scramble back to his feet. He backed up a few steps; he would have to be more careful if he was going to kill the Witch.

Peter's eyes were wide as he looked at Jadis. She stood still, patient, as she waited for his next attack. Both blades were raised above her head in an attack position and Peter only glanced at them, but he did a double-take. He could clearly see the silver lioness head that was the pommel of Lizzie's sword. Fear gripped him. Edmund and Lizzie?

Was she already dead?

Then he realized what Jadis' mantle was. They were trophies. Aslan's mane, Lizzie and Edmund's swords, they were sick trophies.

The Witch's disturbing smile spread when she saw Peter's stunned realization. Not waiting for him to attack first, she crossed her blades and leapt at him.

Startled, Peter staggered and leaned back. He cried out as the crossed blades sliced at where his neck had just been. As she recoiled and prepared for another attack, Peter regained his footing. She lunged at him and he only just blocked her, his angry fire was swiftly fading.

Then, as Peter deflected another strike, the valley shook.

The air trembled and the rocks groaned as the world was full of a magnificent roar. Everyone in the gorges froze including Peter and the Witch. They all turned to see the lion, Aslan the true king over all the kings in Narnia, in all his beautiful golden glory.

Jadis gasped, "Impossible!" She had killed him herself, how could he still be alive?

The ledges on either side of the Great Lion were suddenly full with reinforcements; an army of refugees from the Witch's castle. And Lucy and Susan were there too. For the first time in hours, Peter felt a spark of hope and he smiled tiredly.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Jadis attacked. She would kill Peter quickly now, before Aslan could stop her. Perhaps the prophecy could still be stopped; after all, the Lioness and the other Son of Adam were dead.

Peter barely noticed the attack in time to block it and his clumsy dodge gave Jadis the opening the needed. She swung her sword at his feet, neatly tripping him up. As he thudded onto his back, she slammed Edmund's sword down into his arm.

Peter brought his shield up to defend himself, but Jadis caught it with Lizzie's sword and ripped it off of his arm to make it fly several feet away.

Peter stared up her. He was about to die. Oddly enough he was afraid, but not for himself. He was afraid for Lucy and Susan. What would happen to them now? Was Edmund already dead or could Lucy make it in time to save him? And what about Lizzie? His heart twisted violently inside of him as a vision of her, dead, flashed before his eyes. Her skin pale and her green eyes wide, unseeing...

Jadis's face was almost businesslike was she twirled Lizzie's sword, preparing for the kill.

Then there was a deep growl and Jadis looked up just in time to see Aslan in midair, flying at her. He hit her and wrapped his velveted paws around her, snatching her from her feet. The two of them tumbled through the air and across the ground to stop several yards away from Peter.

Aslan had the Witch pinned. His deep golden eyes took her in and she stared up him, an unreadable expression on both of their faces before Aslan snarled and went for the kill.

Peter was stunned for a moment, he was sure he should have been dead, but Aslan had saved him. He grasped Edmund's blade and yanked it out of his arm, throwing it to the side.

As the Narnian army flooded in around them like a strong current, driving away the foul pollution of the Witch's army, Peter got to his feet slowly. He saw Aslan turn toward him. It was strange; there was no blood on his fur. Or perhaps it was not so strange.

Aslan's face was cheerless but finally at peace, "It is finished." He said softly.

"Peter! Peter!" Susan and Lucy's voices broke the moment and Peter whirled to catch Lucy in his arms as she hugged him. He was flooded with sudden relief so strong, he almost could have cried; at least they were alright. He hugged Lucy back tightly with his uninjured arm.

Susan stopped a few feet away and her wide eyes took in the dreadful scene before her; there were bodies everywhere. She swallowed and looked for two people in particular. Not seeing them, she murmured softly, almost afraid to ask, "Edmund and Lizzie?"

The blood drained from Peter's face and that feeling of relief was gone. What if they were too late? "Lucy, we need you." he grabbed his youngest sister's hand and, trying not to alarm her more, he led them to where he had last seen Edmund. He desperately prayed that they weren't too late.

Edmund was still alive and conscious. His wound, though immeasurably painful and possibly fatal, was small and bled slowly, drawing out his death. He had managed to roll onto his back and he wheezed in pain as his hands clawed weakly at the grass. It seemed to him like he had been lying there for hours before he saw a shadow looming aver him.

Susan spotted Edmund's prone form before the others and she also saw the dwarf next to him, raising an axe to finish him off. She had an arrow on the string and let it fly before the dwarf could blink twice and he fell back with an almost comical scream.

Edmund's siblings gathered around him and Peter took him in his arms, his eyes were flooded with unshed tears. Susan unbuckled Edmund's helmet and held his head gently in her lap, she was already crying at seeing her little brother in so much pain. Lucy was struggling to hold back her sobs and her shaking fingers fumbled with the cap of her little glass bottle. She managed to unscrew it though, and not wasting any time, she let a drop fall into Edmund's parted lips.

Edmund's eyes closed and he lay unmoving. None of his siblings dared breathe and the silence became thick with dread.

Then Edmund coughed as he sucked in a breath. Susan smiled through her tears as his eyes opened and she saw that the pain gone from them.

Peter snatched up his brother in a tight hug before he could take another breath. He hugged him tightly as the tears streamed openly down his face now. Knowing how close he had come to losing his brother scared him more than anything and in the wave of relief that followed, he couldn't hold back his tears.

After a moment Peter loosed his hold on Ed and drew back to look at him. He grinned through his tears. "When are you gonna learn to do as you're told?" He chided Ed.

Slightly disoriented and unable to speak yet, Edmund grinned like a goof and he suddenly found himself and Peter pulled into a group hug with his sisters. The four of them sat there for a few minutes as the realization of everything they had been through dawned on them.

Peter caught a movement in his peripheral vision and he broke the hug to see Aslan smiling warmly at them from beside the statue of a satyr, frozen with his face twisted in a battle cry. The Pevensies watched as he turned and breathed gently on him. His color returned and he gasped before looking around, with a dazed expression on his face.

Lucy dried her tears and grinned. She looked down at her little bottle of magic fire-flower juice and she knew what she had to do. She leapt up and ran to the nearest injured Narnian. Susan and Peter stood up. Edmund still sat on the ground, frowning as he went over his last fuzzy memories of the battle.

Peter took charge instantly. Susan and Lucy were to go back to the camp to set up a field hospital. He and Edmund, along with any unharmed Narnians would bring them the injured. Susan nodded, eager to help in any way she could, and she soon disappeared with Lucy.

Peter offered Edmund a hand. As Ed stood, he said, "Let's go find Lizzie." He hadn't seen her since the fight, but he knew, or at least he hoped she had been able to take of herself.

Edmund frowned, "Lizzie..." Suddenly what little color was left in his face was gone. His freckles stood out in stark relief and his brown eyes were suddenly wide with panic.

Seeing his brother's face, Peter's heart skipped a beat. It was as though the ground had suddenly dropped out from beneath his feet and he was filled with dread. "Ed, what's wrong?" he finally made his voice work.

Without another word, Edmund grabbed Peter's arm and pulled him. His eyes frantically searched the craggy rocks, but they all looked the same.

Peter followed him and searched with him. He had no idea what he was looking for, but from how Edmund had reacted, he was terrified of what they might find. Images of what might have happened to Lizzie flashed through his mind, each more horrible than the last and always ending the same way; with her lifeless green eyes staring at him.

Then he saw her.

He had almost missed her, but something had caught his eye.

His feet felt like lead and had didn't even notice Edmund's presence beside him as he stumbled forward.

It was definitely Lizzie.

He would know her face anywhere, even twisted in pain as it was and even though her stone skin blended in too well with the hard gray walls of the narrow ravine she was in. Her knees were bent as though they were buckling beneath her and her left arm was curled across her abdomen, her hand covering something against her stomach. Her right hand was outstretched like she was reaching for something and although the rest of her was human, her curled fingers ended in sharp claws.

Peter's hand shook as he slowly stretched his fingers out to touch hers. They were hard and could, and they didn't feel like they should have. He was distantly aware of the tears falling down his cheeks as he looked at her face. There was more than simple pain there; there was hopelessness. It wrenched his heart to see her like this, to see her beautiful face like this, to see the dampness on her dark, stone face that was her tears.

He felt ill and he turned to tell Edmund to go get Aslan, but the lion was already there. "Aslan, can you...?" he choked out.

Aslan's gorgeous face was heartbreaking to see as he looked at Lizzie. With no word, he stepped forward and breathed gently on her. Slowly, so slowly, her skin lightened, but there was no warm rosy skin; it was a sickly, ashen color. Her usually bright gold hair was dull and dirty. The light in her emerald eyes was dim.

As her limbs unfroze, she let out a shallow breath and staggered, almost falling, but Peter caught her. She was unable to hold herself up and all of her weight fell against him. Peter lowered her as gently as he could to the ground, as though she were a fragile, priceless treasure.

His face was distressed; he had never seen her like this, but that distress quickly turned to horror when he felt her warm blood on his hands and saw her wound.

"Peter?" Her voice was faint, far too soft, almost a whisper. And it cost her, after speaking, she coughed. There were flecks of blood on her lips and her eyes closed in pain.

Peter didn't think he would be able to speak, but he said, "Lizzie, hang on." his voice was rough. He sat on the ground and pulled Lizzie into his lap, trying not to jostle her. His trembling fingers touched her hair as he tried to comfort her, "We'll get you help."

Aslan turned to the stunned Edmund, "Edmund, come. We must find your sister." he said gently, but forcefully to the stunned boy. Edmund jerked out of his stupor and nodded, not objecting as Aslan motioned for him to mount him. They were gone in moments without any sound.

Lizzie's face twisted into a grimace, "Hurts..." she breathed, but was punished with another fit of horrible, bloody coughs.

"Shh, Lizzie don't talk..." Peter brushed her lips gently, not wanting her to hurt herself any more. Willing himself to look away from her face, he turned his eyes to her wound. The knife was buried deeply in her, all the way to its hilt and with her every breath and every cough it continued to cut her up inside. It would have to be removed if Lucy was to have a chance of healing her. "I-I have to take out the knife." he said quietly and looked her in the eyes; it would be excruciatingly painful, "Do you understand?"

Lizzie's gaze never wavered as she nodded jerkily.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered softly, he didn't want to hurt her like this, but it had to be done. His fingers wrapped around the knife and she groaned and her body shivered from the amount of pain that small movement alone had caused her. He winced and swallowed before pulling. He pulled it out quickly, but carefully, not wanting to cause more damage than had already been done.

Lizzie's body convulsed and her back arched as her mouth opened in a silent scream. She was trying to cry out, but she was choking herself on her own blood and screams. The only sound that came out of her throat was a horrific gurgling. Her fingers, all human now, clawed at the ground and Peter as she struggled for breath, but she was only able to gag.

Peter was horrified and the stone knife, slick with blood, dropped from his fingers, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he sobbed. He pressed his hand to her stomach to stem the torrent of blood, but it wasn't enough. He ripped off his red cloth tunic and pressed it to the gash, but in moments it was soaked through too.

Lizzie's coughs began to quiet and she finally was able to successfully draw a few full breaths, but they were shallow and uneven. Her skin had an unhealthy, gray pallor, and her lips had no color. She coughed a little, "Its... s-so cliché..." she tried to smile, but failed. "I feel cold." she whispered.

She knew she was dying.

Peter bit his lip, biting back a sob, "No. Lizzie, stay with me." he cradled her gently against himself, trying to warm her. But her skin was cold and clammy and wouldn't warm up; she needed Lucy.

"I'm... s-sorry... Peter." she breathed so softly, he had to strain to hear her broken voice.

It broke his heart to hear that, but somehow his heart kept beating painfully inside of him as though to torture him. "No..." he sobbed. "No Lizzie, you're gonna be fine." he felt as though he was lying.

Her bleeding was slowing, but only because she was running out of blood and it was all over Peter's hands.

Her eyelids fluttered a few times like the gentle last wing-beats of a dying butterfly, "I failed."

"Don't do this Lizzie!" He choked out through his tears, but she didn't respond. His fingers curled desperately in her hair as he held her broken body close to his.

Just then, there was a flurry of soft paw-beats. It was Aslan with Edmund and the girls. "Lucy, quickly." Aslan ordered her gently.

Susan and Edmund had identical looks of shock on their faces as they saw their big brother clinging hopelessly to the pale, bloodied body of their friend. But Lucy's fingers were sure as she unscrewed the cap of her little bottle. She had already seen miracles worked that day; she needed to believe there could be another.

Nevertheless, her fingers shook as she let a single drop fall to Lizzie's pale, parched lips.

The air was still and no one dared to breathe as they waited.

"Please Lizzie..." Peter wept as he brushed a few stray hairs from Lizzie's still face, "You promised."

**End of Chapter 33**

Wow, sorry... That's just as bad a cliffie as the last chapter. I feel so evil! D: Like... Hitler evil...

Hopefully it won't take me as long to get the next one up and soon I'll (hopefully) be posting the bigger, better, rewritten version.


	34. Almost

**The Chronicles of the Lioness: The First Adventure**

**Chapter: 34**

**By:** Lady Aescwyn

**The Chronicles of the Lioness**

"Lizzie..."

A far-off voice called to Lizzie. It sounded as though it came across a great distance; as if from a dream. "It's time to wake up." The voice insisted in a warm baritone when she didn't stir.

Lizzie wrinkled her nose and groaned as she turned over and buried her face in her arm. "Five more minutes." she grumbled.

There was an affectionate chuckle, "Come on sunshine."

Lizzie frowned, she knew that voice. She lifted her head to look for the speaker, but what she saw stunned her and she momentarily forgot anyone had spoken as her senses were assailed by her surroundings.

Beneath her was the softest, greenest, most beautiful grass she had ever seen. The smell alone was enough to amaze her. It was something like the smell of a fresh-cut lawn in the summer, but a thousand times better. It had a hint of saltiness like the tough, resilient grass that grew near the sea, but it was also sweet like the succulent little sprouts that grew in the highest mountain valleys. Having been warmed by the sun, its perfume surrounded her and made her mouth water with its savory tones. And the feel... Oh, it felt almost like the finest lush velvet against her skin. No, it felt better. It was as smooth as a bowling green, but it wasn't tough or scratchy and it didn't make her skin sweat or itch as grass sometimes does.

It took a moment, or perhaps an hour for she couldn't tell how time was passing, but she finally was able to tear her eyes away from the grass and was immediately enthralled again. Surrounding her in every direction were high, sharp, periwinkle blue mountains capped with snow so high that it would never melt. They reached upward to a sky that was the purest blue you could have imagined. It stretched on and on, upward and into itself with nary a cloud in sight.

She seemed to be lying on a gentle hill covered all in the same gorgeous, verdant grass and far below her was the most gorgeous lake she had ever seen. Its waters were the deepest, clearest cobalt blue and its shores were covered in tiny red and blue and yellow stones that glittered like gemstones. It looked at once like a lucid Caribbean lagoon and a freezing mountain lake that would make you sputter with the cold if you tried to swim in it. Its scent was like unto her as an oasis is to a man dying of thirst.

Above her, the hill continued to rise, becoming steeper as it did so, until it culminated in what looked to be a garden. The garden was surrounded by high wall of green turf and over the walls hung several tree branches. As they were stirred by the gentle wind, Lizzie could see not only countless shades of green, but also blue and silver and gold. In the air, she could smell something heavenly, warm and golden, as if from all the most delicious fruits and flowers of the world.

The very center of the towering wall was pierced by a set of great golden gates; the tallest and most beautiful you have ever seen. On the bright gold there were large letters in a sparkling silver script. It seemed that her eyes had become sharper because even from where she lay in the grass, several hundred feet away, she could read the words. She could see the intricate little veins in the leaves of the trees and the tiniest ripples in the lake. Every blade of grass stood out in such sharp relief that it looked as though they could slice like blades, but they bent in the wind like gossamer threads.

A light breeze whispered across her skin like fine silk, adding to the sensation of the grass against her. Every nerve of her body felt awake and alert, almost like she was buzzing. Even though the sun shined brightly overhead, she was warm and cool and refreshed and comfortable all at the same time.

Behind her she heard that voice again, this time laughing quietly, knowingly, as though the owner understood what she was seeing.

Lizzie blinked and saw a man standing in the grass beside her, towering over her. He was tall and his skin was rosy, but luminescent at the some time. It almost seemed to glow or sparkle with a soft light in the dazzling sun. His golden blonde hair was short and slightly curly, although it was combed back and every strand of it seemed to glisten as the sun hit it. The man's oval face was soft and he looked so young, but at the same time wiser than anyone Lizzie had ever known. The only lines of his face were the tiny, crinkled laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.

And his eyes were what captivated Lizzie. They were light, brilliant, emerald green and they sparkled with light and laughter.

They were her eyes.

"Daddy?" she whispered, barely breathing.

James Bennett's smile grew and he opened his arms for his daughter.

Lizzie scrambled to her feet and launched herself into his arms. "Daddy!" she cried as she was swept up in a big bear hug, the kind of hug she had missed dearly ever since he'd left for the war. Tears welled up in her eyes as she clung tightly to him and dug her fingers into the sturdy fabric of his blue RAF uniform, never wanting to let him go.

His smile softened as he gently stroked her hair. "Hello Lizzie." he said tenderly.

It was like their hug went on for hours or days, but again, Lizzie couldn't tell the time. It seemed that it was over all too soon as they broke apart. They stepped apart, but not out of each other's arms as Lizzie was unwilling to lose contact with him. She was afraid he wasn't real and that he would disappear if she let go. Her tears spilled down her cheeks as she took him in, "But I thought... I mean, they told us... the telegram... We thought you were dead." she stammered.

James's face saddened, not because of his state but because he hated to see his daughter like this. "I am. Or at least, my body is." he said softly. Like everything else in this place, his voice had multiple dimensions; it was like music to the ears.

"Then how are you...?" Lizzie frowned, not understanding.

Her father smiled and reached up to soothingly tuck Lizzie's hair behind her ear. "Nothing truly good ever really dies, little one." he explained.

Lizzie's frown only grew, "But if you're and I'm here then am I...?" What could have happened? Why would she be here? She struggled to remember, but it was hard to imagine that anything could have existed before this place.

"Not yet, but Lizzie you have to go back now before it's too late." James's face suddenly became serious as he urgently grasped his daughter's shoulders.

Lizzie looked away, still trying to remember, but it was like trying to see through a deep fog and her memories were just as elusive as a thick mist. Then, she remembered a face, Peter's face, but it was like looking through a dirty glass window. After being in this place, her memories were dull and murky, like a dream. Her scowl deepened as she concentrated on Peter's face and suddenly she remembered everything.

The remembrance hit her physically and she grasped her belly and doubled over in pain as she once again felt the stone knife shredding her from the inside. "I-I don't think I want to..." she gasped. The feeling had only been momentary, but she still felt ill.

Her father grasped her hand and helped her to her feet. "Lizzie look..." he said and suddenly, their surroundings changed.

They were back on the battlefield, back in the same narrow gorge where Lizzie had been cut down by the Witch. Peter, Lucy, Susan and Edmund were all there, but nobody moved. It was like time had halted, frozen in a devastating scene. Lizzie felt sick all over again as she saw her own, battered body, colorless from the loss of blood. Blood which covered the ground and Peter's hands.

Peter held her tenderly, his agonized face searching hers desperately for any sign of life. The look on his face and the way he held her stunned Lizzie, she had never seen him like this and she wanted to take him into her arms and tell him that it was okay, that she wasn't dead, she was right here!

But she couldn't move.

She was about to scream in frustration when there was a movement next to her. She looked to her left to se Aslan. He was still alive and more beautiful than she had ever seen him. He alone seemed to be unaffected by the frozen time. "Aslan, you're alive... Or are you...?" Lizzie was stunned and amazed; she had seen him die.

Aslan's deep golden eyes sparkled as he smiled and nodded at her. "I'm very much alive little one." he looked from her to the scene before them, "Your body has been healed and they need you." he paused and looked sidelong at Lizzie and James as he nodded at Peter. "He needs you."

"Peter..." she breathed, looking back at him. It hurt her to see him like this.

James turned to her and took her face lovingly in his hands, "Lizzie, your life has barely begun. There is still so much for you to do, to see, to create... to love. This place will always be here and I'll always be watching over you."

"But Daddy..." Lizzie's voice cracked as the tears returned and her chin quivered as she struggled to keep from bawling like a baby.

Her father's face became stern, but there was still a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he said, "Didn't you make a promise to someone?" Lizzie blinked, surprised, and then nodded as she remembered the promise she had made to Peter before the battle. "And didn't I teach you to always keep your promises?"

When Lizzie managed a small smile and nodded once more, the strict mask on her father's face disappeared and he smiled again. "That's my girl."

But it was too soon; Lizzie had only just gotten her father back and he was already being taken away. "Daddy..." her lips trembled and she shook her head feebly, trying to protest.

"Give my love to your mother." James's smile was a little sad as he kissed his daughter softly on the forehead. "And remember, I'll always be with you." He whispered.

"But how-?" All of this was just too sudden and too confusing. Lizzie looked back over at Aslan for help, but he said nothing. He only opened his mouth to breathe gently on her.

Like before, his breath surrounded her and she felt engulfed in his warm golden love and filled with his lion strength. Then her skin began to prickle eerily and Aslan, her father, and the battlefield melted away, leaving her in darkness. The prickling started to become uncomfortable and Lizzie felt like she was being squeezed from every direction. It was like she was being forced into a too-tight wetsuit and her overly sensitive body protested. She tried to scream, but she was unable to move or even breathe.

Lizzie started to panic when suddenly, her jaw seemed to unlock itself and air flooded into her lungs. At once it was a relief to breathe, but at the same time, the air tasted horrible and dirty and acrid after the sweet air of that other place. Her body objected to it and she choked halfway through her first breath, before dissolving into a fit of coughing.

"Lizzie!" she heard several voices say her name. She opened her eyes to see all of the Pevensies kneeling or sitting around her with looks of profound relief on their wet faces. As the memories of what had happened unclouded themselves in her mind, she managed a weak smile, happy to see they were all unharmed, but she didn't get a chance to speak as she was swept up into a huge, tearful hug with all of them.

At the center of the group hug, Peter held as tightly to Lizzie as she had to her father. She heard a sniffle and his uneven breathing told her he was crying softly and it brought more tears to her eyes. She tightened her arms around him and buried her face in his sweaty, dirty neck. His damp hairs brushed her cheek as she whispered almost inaudibly, "Its okay. I'm fine. I'm alive." And she knew he heard her as his hug tightened.

Eventually, they all drew apart and looked at one another with tearful smiles. A part of Lizzie was amazed as she realized just how close she was with the Pevensies; they were more than friends, they were family. But then, she had really known that all along.

Aslan's kind voice gently interrupted them, "Lucy, there are still others who need you." Lucy nodded and wiped away her tears before standing up and valiantly going to help the wounded. She looked more like a young Queen than the frightened little girl from Finchley.

It was true that battles were ugly affairs.

The dead and dying were everywhere. Not just Narnians, but their enemies too. Their screams and dying groans and gurgles filled the air. The ground was slick with their gore, red and black blood splattered the rocks and the air was heavy with its thick, metallic scent. It wasn't like some book where at the end, the heroes win the battle and ride off into the sunset.

Aslan walked through the battlefield restoring all those who had been turned to stone. Lucy of course, helped the injured with her cordial back at the camp where several infirmary tents had been set up. Susan helped by bandaging those who weren't fatally hurt while Lizzie and Edmund, along with others, brought in the wounded from the fields. Peter dealt with their enemies; those who chose to surrender were allowed to leave in peace. Those who did not were killed. The bodies of the dead Narnian heroes were returned to their families to be given proper burials, while the dead of the Witch's army were thrown into great piles and burned without ceremony.

The battle had finished by late morning and it was late into the afternoon by the time all of the dead and wounded had been brought in. Despite their victory, a somber mood had fallen across the camp and most were silent in respect for their fallen comrades. Still others wept silently or openly mourned the loss of loved ones. They would celebrate their victory in the morning, but for now they remembered and honored those who had given their lives for their freedom.

The evening wore on and a few of those who weren't too badly injured were still waiting to be bandaged. As the sun slowly lowered itself to slip beneath the horizon, Peter and Lizzie found themselves carrying armloads of bandages, clean cloths, and tubs of hot water to and from the infirmary, kitchen and supply tents. They were both still in their battered and bloody armor and they were still covered with sweat and the grime from the battlefield.

On one such trip to the supply tents, Peter went to pick up a tightly packed, heavy bundle of soap. Suddenly he winced and the bundle tumbled to the ground as he staggered dizzily. Lizzie was at his side in an instant. "Peter, what's wrong?" She set down the armful of bandages she had been carrying.

Peter struggled to stand up straight, but his left hand instinctively went to his right arm; the arm the Witch had stabbed. "Its nothing." he replied quickly, not looking Lizzie in the eyes. He was afraid she'd catch him in his lie.

But Lizzie had been watching him all afternoon; she had seen how he had been favoring that arm all day. They were both exhausted and Peter must have only been running on fumes by now. "No, you're hurt." Her concerned gaze scanned his pale, sweaty face.

"I'm fine." He said reflexively and bent to pick up his load.

Lizzie's face was suddenly stern as she stopped him. "No, you're not. You're dead on your feet and you are obviously hurt." She snapped. Then her face softened apologetically and she said gently, "Sit down. Let me take a look."

Peter blinked at her, but was too tired to argue, so he sat down on a heavy wooden chest and let Lizzie help him out of his chainmail. Underneath the armor was a tick, padded leather tunic which also had to be removed. Peter started becoming self-conscious and he hoped that was as far as Lizzie was going to undress him, but the last layer, a soft, white, blood-soaked under-tunic, had been ruined and had to go as well. So there Peter was, bare-chested and sweaty, sitting not a foot away from a girl he'd liked since forever.

If she hadn't been so focused on Peter's wound, Lizzie wouldn't have been able to pull her eyes away from Peter's soft, lightly tanned skin. He was still young and a bit skinny, but he was well-built and would someday be a very handsome man. Lizzie swallowed a few times because she didn't trust her own voice and she forced herself to focus on his arm. His beautifully toned arm... "You should go see Lucy about this." She whispered as she took in the deep slash that went all the way through his arm. The clothes he had been wearing had greatly slowed the bleeding, but now that the fabric had been removed, his arm oozed blood.

Peter hadn't once looked down at his own, wounded arm; he couldn't tear his eyes away from Lizzie's face. In the soft, purple light from the setting sun he could see every little sun-warmed freckle that was sprinkled across her nose. "No it's not that bad." He said as he continued to stare at the little crease she had in her forehead as she frowned down at his arm.

"You should have said something earlier." She scolded him softly and her green eyes flickered up to his blue ones. For a moment, she was caught up in his stare, but she shook her head quickly to clear it. "At least let me clean you up a little bit." She took out some bandages and a damp cloth to clean him up with and set to work, being as gentle as she could.

Peter nodded silently and continued to watch her, enthralled by every movement she made, even the way she chewed her lip nervously. "Sorry." He said, finally breaking the silence.

Being this near to him was driving her inside. Against her will, her blood pounded furiously through her veins and she was afraid he would hear her heart it was beating so loudly. She was relieved when he finally spoke and she looked up at him, confused, "What's wrong?"

"It's just that... I thought we had lost you." Embarrassed, Peter finally looked away from her inquisitive emerald eyes and down at his bandaged arm. For a moment he was surprised, he had been so enchanted by her, he hadn't noticed she'd finished. "I thought _I'd_ lost you." He said finally.

Lizzie was taken aback and she wasn't sure how to respond at first. She smiled a little, "Well, I made a promise, didn't I?" Then she looked away, ashamed. Peter was her friend, how was it he could make her feel like this? And it didn't feel right, smiling after so many had died just hours before.

Peter frowned as she looked away, afraid he had done something wrong. Confused, he reached over and gently lifted her chin. She offered no resistance as her eyes met his once again. They were only inches away now, their bodies so close they were touching, and their faces so close their breath mingled in the cool air. Somehow the distance between them slowly started to close.

As if under a spell, Lizzie's eyes closed and she tilted her head as Peter's hand lightly held her face, bringing it closer to his own.

But suddenly, a voice interrupted them. "Pete, Lizzie! Lucy needs help with..." Susan came running around the corner of the tent calling their names, but her voice trailed off and she stopped when she saw them. She cocked her head to the side and as she studied the scene before her, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" Lizzie said quickly as she leapt up and took a few steps away from Peter. "No, of course not." she said again, but her red face betrayed her.

"Lizzie was just helping me... with my arm I mean." Peter added, although his face belied his words as well.

Not letting Susan inquire more about the situation, Lizzie asked, "Where is Lucy?"

"She's still in the infirmary tents." Susan answered, still looking back and forth between her friend and her brother.

Before she could say anything else, Lizzie was gone, ducking her head to hide her face. Lizzie couldn't believe what she had almost just done. Peter was her friend! She couldn't just go around kissing him! What must he think of her?

But it just felt so _right_...

As her friend left, Susan looked back at her brother and her look of suspicion slowly smoothed into a suspecting smile. Peter's gaze had fallen to the ground and he looked equal parts frustrated, ashamed, and astounded. He didn't even seem to notice Susan watching him. Susan's smile turned into a grin as she realized what was going on; Lizzie and Peter were falling for each other. It was amazing that she hadn't seen the signs earlier; they had been right in front of her!

Her smile became mischievous as she slowly retreated, leaving Peter to his thoughts.

**End of Chapter 34**

Well, Lizzie did die... sort of. I guess you could say she was clinically dead.

And oh... So close! They _almost_ kissed. XD

BTW I've changed Lizzie's last name from Robinette to Bennett... It just didn't make much sense for an English character to have a French last name. And her dad's name is James... it'll all be cleared up in the rewrite (which I'm about halfway done with).

Well, at least it didn't take me a _year_ to get this chapter up! Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has responded. Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing, and most of all thank you for not giving up on me. I love you all!

I think there's only one chappie left (or two at most) and I'll get that up as soon as possible.

Thanks again!


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